Hush, Little Duckling
by kalebxdd
Summary: Both outcasts in their own right, two boys bond over something as simple as a video game, as well as something as strange as an albino duck. Watch as their relationship flourishes, Captain Underpants breaks new records, and Banshee sings the blues.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey world!**

 **This is a new story of mine and I have to say that I am more than just a little excited to share it with you. It will be a Trunks x Goten story, so yeah, it's going to be guys falling love. If you do not like such things, it would be best to turn around now :).**

 **My other story White Lines is almost done, so it's possible that the first few updates on this story will be a bit slower, but it should pick up the pace really fast, so don't worry :).**

 **This story is going to be partly Alternate Universe. This is because of two reasons. For one, I can't have the boys knowing each other yet, cause otherwise there would be no plot premise. Secondly I just don't feel like dealing with the whole 'we can blow up planets by sneezing' aspect. Other than that a lot will stay the same, although I will have to mess with some characters. Nothing major, though, so do not fret :)**

 **Lastly I want to send my thanks to Timaelan. She's been a big fan of White Lines and she's supporting me through this, so THANK YOU!**

 **Now, let's get on with the story! Please read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1.**

The ducks were hungry today. They were swarming the edge of the pond, snapping their orange beaks at the flakes of bread drifting in the murky water. Others were busy ruffling their colourful plumage in displays to impress a possible mate. This behaviour heralded the coming of spring, something that made the boy smile.

He sat on a bench a yard or two away from the birds, a bag dangling from his hand which still contained a few slices. He'd be sure to give them the rest as well; he never really saw anyone else feeding them, so he almost felt obligated.

He always sat here, no matter what day. If it was a rainy one he would pull on a warm coat and go nonetheless. Sure, it was always better to visit his feathered friends on the warmer days, when he could walk around in a simple shirt, rather than wrapping himself in like a bulky Christmas present. But he would still come here. It had become a solid part of his routine and he'd miss it if he ever gave it up. It was just a part of his being now, something he did without really considering it.

That, and the ducks would miss their daily slice of bread. Who could be so cruel as to deny them that?

Trunks Briefs reached into the bag once more. Several of the ducks reared their heads at him, knowing the sound as a sign of food to come. It made him chuckle. They were pretty smart creatures, these birds. They could feign injuries to arouse empathy in humans, scheming them into giving another piece of bread. They were sneaky little bastards, but they got the job done.

Ducks almost never quacked. People made them out to do just this, all the freaking time, but that wasn't true. If one did, it was most likely meant as a means of communication towards humans, much like how cats meow. Although they most certainly knew that he was no duck, his friends never took the trouble of trying to talk to him. All but one.

"Heya Beaker," Trunks gave half a smile and turned to the animal in question. It quaked at him with all the usual cheer. Beaker had been living near this pond for at least two years, ever since Trunks began to feed the birds. Where most of his buddies were brown and green, Beaker was a splendid white. An albino, of course, though that did nothing to change his social status. Unlike with other albino animals, Beaker was accepted into the group without question. Truth to be told, the only unfortunate thing that happened him was being named Beaker.

Trunks handed him a full slice, watching as his best friend gobbled it up and ruffled his feathers in bliss. It made Trunks laugh. "Sorry big guy, but I can't give you all of it, or else the rest will get hungry." He began to toss the remaining bread into the pond and watched as the ducks sped towards it, hoping to fill their bellies before the end of the feast.

It was peaceful to watch them go about their business. They seemed so undisturbed by their environment, something that Trunks envied more than he dared to say. He too wished that he could just lay his head under his wing and go to sleep, but in the world of humans there was no such thing as getting a break. Unbeknownst to him, he sighed.

He felt something nudge at his side. Trunks looked down and saw that Beaker had taken it upon himself to hop onto the bench. The duck was pressing his feathered head into Trunks's lap, prompting the boy to pet it. He feared that Beaker might snap at him, but that never happened. It was rather strange, all things considered. A lonely boy sitting by a pond, petting the one friend he felt he truly had. It sounded like the start of a bad coming-of-age film.

It wasn't like he didn't have any friends at all. There were a few people who he could stand to be around, but that was a very short list. Furthermore, he was well aware that he considered them his friends much more than the other way around. Something in his gut told him that they were just using him as a springboard to reach their own desires. Money did crazy stuff to people.

If he wanted to he could give Beaker ten whole breads right out of the oven, or slices with chips of solid gold. But it felt good to just grab whatever the maids had left lying around from their lunch break the day before. It almost made him feel normal.

Beaker rubbed up against him some more, then took a sitting position on Trunks's lap. The duck lifted his tail feathers once to make for a comfortable spot, then nestled in between the thighs that would keep him nice and warm. Trunks found himself talking to the bird before he knew it, a habit that he had picked up as soon as he noticed Beaker's continuous presence.

"At least you don't judge me for how much I'm worth," Trunks sighed, stroking the white plumage in his absence of mind. As if to confirm this, Beaker gave a loud quack. "Yeah, I know. Sometimes I wish I could just be as poor as the next person." And he really did. Of course, having rich parents isn't something to complain about, but it did create a certain distance to his peers. Either they stayed away from him or they would crowd him all day, every day, hoping to ride along the fortune train. It was tiresome to say the least.

Trunks glanced at his watch and gave a groan. Beaker tilted his head, staring at him like a dog might do if curious. "Sorry Beaks, I have to be going now. School and all." It was the usual rough end to his little moment of peace and happiness. He lifted the duck from his lap and reached beside the bench, where he had tossed his bag aside like an old dish rag. He swung it over his shoulder and tossed the fumbled up plastic one in the bin a few steps away.

He turned to Beaker once more, a sad smile forming on his lips. "See ya tomorrow, pal."

* * *

It was harder than usual to get to school this morning. Not only was traffic jammed for most of his way there, but his legs were also heavier than on most days. He just wasn't feeling up for it. Normally he could always put on a fake smile -similar to ducks acting hurt- and get through the hours, but he could already tell that now he would have to try his best to refrain from snarling and dropping nasty remarks. Or, well, he had to watch out he didn't say them out loud, cause he whispered them under his breath whenever an opportunity arose.

After taking a right about half a mile away from the pond South City High came into view. The building itself wasn't much to look at, all square and grey and stuff, but no one could deny that the school's gardener was a genius. A giant green field spread out behind the property, all the fences lined with flowers of all varieties and colours. It was a sight to behold. Not to mention a shitload of work to keep up with, but that was none of his concern.

There were trees all around the front of the school as well, with lilies and daffodils growing at their bases, confirming once more that good weather was not far away. Trunks walked among all the green, looking for the perfect spot. He found it on the far right of the yard, a little bit away from the main entrance. He dropped himself down like a bag of potatoes, relishing the tickling sensation on his cheeks as he laid down to stare at the canopy above.

Class wouldn't start for at least another ten minutes. That was just enough time to curse the world in silence. After that he would have to mingle and do it discreetly.

He found the cigarettes in his backpack easily enough. He made certain to look around before lighting one, though, cause the school had a very strict anti-smoking policy. The janitor would flay him if he found Trunks like this. After that the board would definitely call his parents, and what happened after that was all too scary to even consider.

The nicotine in his bloodstream was a blessing from the heavens. His head fell back into the grass, blue eyes observing the wisps of smoke as they left his lips. If only he could be this relaxed all the time.

Someone was looming over him. He opened his eyes and found another set of blue ones, these sparkling in a sense of glee that made Trunks want to sigh. Her blond hair framed a face that was just losing its final childish curves, instead becoming the face of a woman grown. She was pretty alright, but he'd be damned if he would ever tell her. She didn't need another reason to gloat.

"'Sup Marron," Trunks greeted more out of courtesy than anything. Truth to be told, he didn't really feel like talking to the girl. She always stuck by his side as if her hips were made of some super potent adhesive. Being friendless as he was, though, Trunks couldn't get himself to tell her to piss off.

"Hey Trunkie," she addressed him with the nickname that made him cringe every time he heard it. "Better be careful or else Mr. Mite will have your ass for breakfast."

"He'd wish," Trunks scoffed. "I heard the rumours about what goes on in his basement. Well I won't be another one of his young boyish victims."

Marron gave a giggle and pressed a hand to her mouth. "Oh, don't be so serious, Trunkie, I was just kidding. The worst he'll do is have your parents come to school."

Trunks rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure what I find scarier."

"Oh please, like your parents could ever really punish you. You're their perfect little angel, aren't you."

That wasn't entirely untrue. Bulma and Vegeta had always considered him to be the perfect child. Not without reason, because Trunks had been a boring fucking kid for a very long time. He would do well in school, he wouldn't get into trouble. The last time that he had been reprimanded for his behaviour had to be at least six months ago. Even so, he couldn't believe that his parents would allow their child to be a smoker, even if his mother was one too. _Do as I say, not do as I do..._

Trunks chose not to reply to Marron's comment, opting to just sit in his spot and take another drag from his cigarette. She would find one way or another to keep the conversation going. She always did. Without. Fail.

Marron spread herself out in the grass as well, folding her legs beneath her and making sure that her flowery dress would not get ruffled. She stole Trunks's packet and lit her own cancerous stick, tapping the ashes with slender fingers.

"I was just thinking," she began to say. "isn't it kind of strange how much people want to be around us?"

Trunks bit his lower lip to keep words from spilling over. First of all he wanted to press the irony of the situation, because Marron's presence wasn't always as appreciated as she made it out to be. Secondly, he wanted to point out just why this was so obvious.

Like himself, Marron had been born into a fair amount of money. Marron did not have concerns about not going to college, or not getting that car she wants for her sixteenth birthday. Her father was a pretty well-known martial artist who had competed in several of the World Tournaments, but never getting past the semi-finals. Even so, it had gotten him a few sponsorship deals, as well as his own line of sporting equipment. This had grown out to become an emperium of epic proportions, and before Krillin could even begin to fathom what was going on, he was a multimillionaire. Not long after he had wedded Lazuli, who had taken on a rather strange pseudonym for her modelling jobs, namely Eighteen. The name stuck and these days she went by the number instead of the name. It had even gotten so bad that people were now calling Marron's uncle -Eighteen's manager-, Lapis, Seventeen. And of course her bodyguard became Sixteen.

So instead of pointing out all the obvious wrongs in her question, Trunks just grunted. He hoped that it resembled something along the lines of a 'yes'.

"Do you think it's because they're all filthy golddiggers?" Marron answered her own question.

"I dunno," Trunks said, flicking his cigarette butt away. "Maybe we're just so dashingly handsome that they can't stay away."

Marron laughed. "Well I am for sure. I can't vouch for your ugly mug, though."

Trunks rolled his eyes behind his lids, then shot her a glare of which he knew it would make her laugh even harder. Marron was so simple most of the times. Trunks had long since decided to just cater to her needs, to just help her polish her ego if the situation demanded it. It was a lot better than having to deal with her moping and yammering about her insecurities. If she even got on track with that, there would be no stopping her.

He had once considered the idea that she might be into him, even though she was a little over two years younger than he was. Her presence around him had always been so demanding, so in his face. Wherever he turned, Marron was there. He tried to ignore it at first, but after a while it became hard to not see her bat her lashes at him whenever they made eye contact.

It stopped after a while, though. Trunks still had no idea why. Perhaps it was because he never responded to her advances, or maybe she had found somebody else to swoon over. In any case, her lingering stares had turned away from him at last, and she had instead chosen to have him be her best friend, whether he consented to it or not. Even though Trunks did have to admit that he'd rather have an annoying girl by his side than no one at all.

The bell rang across the school grounds, signalling the beginning of class and eliciting a groan from Trunks. He _really_ wasn't in the mood for this right now. At all. The first thing that would greet him when he stepped through the double doors to the wardrobe would be a flock of guys and girls asking him if he had any fun over the weekend. If he confirmed this, they would propose a 'chill sesh' for the next one. They were all pining for him to grace them with his presence, his filthy rich presence.

And just that happened. Trunks and Marron were hardly past the coat racks when a few kids in Trunks's year approached them. They were all wearing their brightest smiles and looked all too happy to see the two. Or Trunks, at least. Marron had her own peers to fawn over her.

"Hey, Trunkseroonie! Trunkleton! Whassup!" The over excited voice belonged to a tall and sluggish boy, waving his arms around to make certain that Trunks would spot him from a distance. A gaggle of other students followed in his trail, all of them pointing at the two most 'popular' kids in the school. Trunks had no idea who they were, but he was able to identify the tall one as Chett, who was in his English class.

Chett stopped in front of him, making a display of sticking out his hand for the customary slap and fist bump. Trunks obliged, knowing it to be best to just give in. If not, he'd be pelted with lots of phrases along the lines of "C'mon!" and "Whydya hafta do that!"

"So, Trunkzilla, how's hangin'?" Chett used that annoying and boisterous tone of his, acting as if the two of them were the best of buddies and they painted the town red every Friday night. "Did ya do anything fun this weekend? Anything fresh on the downlow?"

Trunks gave a microscopical sigh and nodded. "Sure, it was alright."

"Ah, Trunks, man, ya crack me up," Chett laughed, clapping Trunks on the back and almost making the boy lose his balance. "Ya really should come and have a chill sesh with me and the homies, man. Really."

"I'll see if I can make it sometimes."

This turned out to be an open invitation for the rest of the group to let him know how badly they wanted to be friends with him.

"Don't forget to swing by me, Trunksie boy!" a short girl with pink hair piped up.

"You have to come by my place first, though." One of Chett's companions proposed.

"Don't forget about me!"

Trunks gritted his teeth and allowed his nails to graze the flesh of his palm. God, these people were getting on his nerves. Today hadn't been all that great to begin with, and now he was being forced to put up with all the sweet talking and overly kind gestures. It made him want to vomit. The worst part was that he didn't feel like sticking up for himself, let them know that he didn't exactly appreciate seeing the zeni signs in their eyes.

The second bell rang, which meant that all students were to be seated in their respective classrooms within five minutes. Trunks used the opportunity to slip away from all the attention. Sure, he would have to deal with it during break time again, but for now he relished the silence.

But apparently fate would not allow him to enjoy himself today. When he looked to his left he saw Marron trotting alongside him. For the so manieth time that day he wanted to groan. Marron was in the same class as he was on Monday morning, second grade physics. She had once told him that as a little girl she liked nothing more than playing with chemistry sets and all the electrical wiring she could find around the house. Marron was aiming for a very different choice in career than her parents, it turned out. So now every Monday morning Trunks would have to sit next to her for two excruciating hours while she droned on and on and on and on...

"So I've been going to this new yoga studio, right, and guess who walks in the minute I start doing my planking exercises..." Trunks had already blocked the sound of her voice out of his mind. He would just have to focus on getting through the day without committing murder. If so, he would reward himself with an extra game of BlasterSmash, his favourite video game in the whole world. Yeah, that sounded like a great idea. Luckily for him he didn't have any heavy subjects today, so he should be able to live through most of the school hours on autopilot.

However, when he took his seat in class, the first thing he got under his nose was a pop quiz he was completely unprepared for. The subject was electricity, something he had found hard to grasp from the get go. He had decided to ignore it for a while, instead focussing on the rest of his school work. Stupid decision.

There was one upside to all of this, though. Even if he were to fail the quiz, at least Marron would be quiet for the first part of the hour. He could use some peace and friggin' quiet.

So he sat there, scratching away and making no sense at all of the answers he was writing down. Once he was done he handed his paper in, not even seeing the disapproving look his teacher sent his way. He took the remaining fifteen minutes and kicked back a little, sighing in content and thinking about nothing in particular.

When all the tests had been collected, the teacher took a position in front of the class and scraped her throat. Mrs. Clearwater had been the physics instructor at South City High for well over twenty-five years, and everything in her posture -big and burly as it was- betrayed this. The way her eyes glared at you over her horn-rimmed glasses was enough. That she was his school mentor did, not at all, make this better.

"Students," she began. "I have been notified this morning that starting next week, Class 3A will be joined by a new face. They have signed up for this course, among others. I hope that you'll be able to make them feel welcome." Clearwater always did this. While she could be strict, everyone knew she had a heart of gold. She wanted nothing more than to have her old students feel safe and her new ones feel welcome.

Trunks wasn't sure how he felt about getting a new classmate. It would be fun to see a new face, yeah, but he dreaded what would happen if this new kid found out who Trunks really was. He would just have another person licking his boots. The thought of it turned his already bad mood sour.

Marron whispered something to his right. "I bet it'll be a cutie, don't you think."

Trunks did not reply. Marron would always respond this way to certain bits of news. As long as she had some guy to drool over, her life was perfect. It was kind of pathetic, really.

Well, how bad could it be? Maybe the new kid would be a suck up, maybe he wouldn't be. All things considered, he couldn't be any worse than Chett. That was simply impossible.

* * *

Trunks kicked off his shoes when he entered the house. The maid would have his hide if he didn't. He could recall a time when he had forgotten to take them off and his footprints had been scattered all around the place. Baba, their elderly housekeeper, had been livid. She had screamed at him until her face had gone purple. To this day Trunks was terrified of the mere idea of defying her.

The house was devoid of most people at the moment. The housekeeping staff was having a day off, Trunks knew. His parents would be home, but it was more than a chore to go and look for them. Of course his parents had gone and bought the biggest house the city had to offer. Just the hallway he was standing in now could fit one of the lower income houses with ease. Trunks had long since gotten accustomed to the sight of the grand double staircase with its golden banisters. The new people he took along weren't, though, and gauging their reaction was something that never got old. Being rich had its good sides as well.

"Mom? Dad?" Trunks yelled at the top of his lungs, but no reply came. He grumbled in annoyance. His mother was likely in her study. Where his father was, he had no idea. He made his way up the stairs and walked the long hall, peeking around the corners of opened doors. He finally found Bulma where he expected to find her in the first place.

"Hey Mom," he said. "Dad's not home?" He dropped his backpack by the door and entered the room. Like all the others, this one made a big display of the Briefs' wealth. Bulma's desk was gigantic and made of cedar wood, standing on large claws that had been polished to a gleam. A chandelier was the main source of light, the many crystals it had been decorated with scattering a beautiful shine upon the walls.

"Nah," Bulma looked up from whatever device she had been tinkering with, taking off the welding mask that shielded her face from view. As a true chain smoker would have it, she lit a cigarette and looked at her son. "Your Dad's on a business trip. He won't be home for another day or two, maybe three. Why, is something the matter?"

Trunks shook his head. "Not really." He jumped up and planted his ass on the desk. This was one of the things that his mother had tried correcting him on, but she had soon learned that this wasn't something that she could out of his system. Trunks had always liked climbing, and jumping on her desk was just another way of getting his fix.

Bulma raised her eyebrows at him, her blue eyes drilling holes in his skull. Trunks felt a sigh building up. His mother had always been able to read him, although he couldn't tell if it was because she was Bulma, or because she was his mother. Either way, she always got him to spill the beans.

"Then why the glum look, kiddo?" she asked, biting her lower lip in that cheeky gesture she made when she knew that she was right.

"Nothing much." That wasn't really that much of a lie. It just wasn't a complete truth. "Just the same old crap, I guess."

Bulma exhaled and gave a soft smile. "Of course it is, honey, I know it all too well. I know that you hate all the attention, I really do."

Trunks shrugged it off. "Meh, let it be, it's not that I can change anything about it."

"True, but you can change something about your attitude. Why don't you just tell everybody that you don't want them to suck up to you like that?"

"And have all the ass-kissing turn into glaring? No thanks."

Bulma laughed. "You really are your father's child. So, nothing new under the horizon?"

"Well, actually," Trunks suddenly remembered. "There's supposed to be a new kid joining my class starting next week, so I suppose that's newsworthy."

"Ooooh!" Bulma exclaimed. "I hope it's a girl. It's been too long since you had yourself a girlfriend, young man. You have a duty to keep up our family's reputation of promiscuity, you know that."

Trunks rolled his eyes at her, ignoring the way she poked him in the side with her elbow as a means of teasing him. "Eh, I'm not really in the market at the moment." Which was true. Trunks had no desire to be chasing skirts. It was all too much of a hassle, having a girlfriend. They needed so much attention and gifts and kind words and time. And Trunks would be needing a lot of aspirin. A lot.

His mother shook her head, but smiled nonetheless. "Sure you aren't. You never have been."

Trunks raised his eyebrows at her. "Got anything to share?"

"No, not really. It's just that I'm beginning to suspect that you might not be the ladies man that I made you out to be."

"And is that my problem?"

"It's going to be, if you don't get me a nice set of grandchildren in ten years."

This time it was Trunks's turn to laugh. "Okay, Mom, I'll try. No promises though."

Bulma laughed along with him. She pulled him in close and kissed the top of his head. "I'll take it," she said. "Now how about you go check on your little sister, see if she isn't up to no good. Once you're done you can go and play some BlasterSmash, okay?"

"Sure thing!" Trunks complied. His fingers were itching to blow up some aliens and space lasers. He jumped off the desk and left the room, contemplating to himself. Maybe he would play more than one extra game. Maybe he'd go for two, or three. He would just have to see. All that he knew was that the inhabitants of planet Vegitasei -the similarity with his father's name hadn't gone unnoticed- would be safe for another day. Space Agent Trunks was coming to the rescue.

* * *

He really ought to hang the poster on the wall by his bed. That way he could look at it every morning, serving him the reminder that he intended it to be. Goten Son grumbled and looked around, surveying the stacks upon stacks upon stacks of boxes he yet had to unpack. Why he was considering the flimsy piece of paper first was beyond him.

It was a stupid poster too, but it always made him smile when he saw it. It was the kind that everyone had seen once in their lives, whether it be in a school hallway or in the cubicles of their coworkers. A kitty dangling from a branch with the oh so fitting line; "Just hang in there!"

Surely it was dripping in cliché, but that wasn't the important thing. No, that cute little furball always made him smile when he laid his deep brown eyes on it, even if it sported the most overused motto in the history of mankind.

Two pieces of tape were enough to suspend it on the wall and leave it there. Goten nodded, glad to see that he had made the first official step to unpacking. There was a whole lot more of it to do, so at least now there was a start. Better get going on the rest, then.

Most of his belongings he chucked into the closet that had already been placed in the room. His mother would have his hide if she saw how much of a mess he was making, but frankly he didn't care. He despised unpacking with a passion, he had recently found out, so he'd be damned if he did a proper job of it.

Goten had moved to South City only a few days ago. His mother had been keen to leave the small mountain village where they had first taken residence. She wanted for him to go to a proper school instead of studying at home all the time. Something about him making some friends his own age. The mere idea was laughable; Goten didn't feel like he needed that much friendship around him. He was on great terms with his family and that was all that really mattered to him.

He wouldn't tell Chi-Chi that, oh no. Once his mother had gotten it in her head to have him placed in some High School in the big city, there was no going back. Before he even had the time to protest most of his things had been packed and ready to go. He had meant to ask her how she had managed to find them a house so quickly, but that seemed like a stupid question in hindsight.

His brother had taken care of it, obviously. Gohan was the kind of person you approached when you needed something, because Gohan had connections all over the place. It was actually kind of sweet. Goten had once asked him to try and find a cheap video game console after he had destroyed his last one. Turned out Goten was a sore loser when it came to BlasterSmash. Anyway, instead of just getting him the console. Gohan threw in a free television and stereo set, along with a stack of games that almost reached the ceiling of his room. When Goten's jaw had dropped at the sight of it, Gohan had just laughed the whole thing off and told him not to worry.

Sure, Gohan didn't have to worry about it. He was the personal assistant of Bulma Briefs, the world's leading scientist in bioengineering. His monthly paychecks could feed smaller countries if need be. He was quite the perfect child and he always had been. Chi-Chi had once pushed for Goten to follow his brother's footsteps, but she had eventually let this dream slide. Goten wasn't really one for academics. His grades were sufficient, but only good enough to not flunk the year. This had been going on for as long as he could remember.

Not that Goten was stupid, no. His talents were just found elsewhere.

He moved some boxes aside to get to his most prized possession in the world. It had been stored away in a case in the corner of the room, so getting it was somewhat of a struggle, but it made the reward even greater. Goten laid the wooden box on his bed and grinned when he unlocked the latches at the side.

Inside was Banshee, an electric guitar with a slender, straight body, her coating a beautiful swirl of blues of every imaginable hue. She was the prettiest thing Goten had ever seen in his life, and yes, he would even tell his mother that. Her long neck had been decorated with a long, white and green dragon, its mighty body waving over the frets and under the strings. What a looker she was.

Goten lifted her from her velvet encasing, taking a moment to just to register the feel of her in his hands. She was big, but surprisingly light for a guitar. He strapped her over his shoulder and let his fingers glide along the length of her neck. He had been playing her a lot in the weeks before they had moved, and she was showing it. Smudges of fingerprints had made the wood greasy, making Goten scrunch his nose. The first thing he would do when he was finished unpacking was bust out the wood polish and clean her up good.

From one of the boxes he retrieved two hooks, which he screwed into the wall next to the kitty poster. He could hang Banshee up by her neck perfectly. The gleam of her body in the sunlight was so beautiful that Goten had to step back for a moment and enjoy the sight.

He had been inseparable from his guitar for over nine years now. Back when Gohan had begun working for Bulma Briefs at the baffling age of eighteen, once again proving to the world that he was too smart for his own good, he had gone all out with the gift giving. Their parents had received the new furniture that his mother had always been pining for, but couldn't afford. His then-girlfriend-now-wife Videl got proposed to with a diamond so pricey that another man would have to work for it for two years. And Goten had gotten Banshee.

Chi-Chi had despised the present. Which, in hindsight, wasn't all that strange. Goten tried to imagine what it must be like to live with a seven-year-old who did nothing but wail and strum loose chords all day long. Thank goodness that he had learned how to play the guitar properly. And he was actually good at it too, like, really good. Nowadays he could just pick up Banshee and just let the music fly from his fingertips. Puberty had chaved his voice into that of a man, and he could sing like one seventy years his senior. The blues was in his soul.

No argument to be had, never had anyone in the world received a greater gift than Goten. Gohan really was awesome.

Goten sighed and began unpacking the rest of his things. If he hurried up he could still make it before dinnertime. He would be going out to eat at some upscale restaurant with his mother and brother, to celebrate that everything had gone well with moving into the city. Goten wasn't really looking forward to it, but mostly because the idea of eating quinoa salad and slugs revolted him. With a little bit of luck they would serve hamburgers as well, but he very much doubted it.

He looked at the wall, not to find Banshee, but instead the poster next to her. He read the motto and repeated it in his mind to steel him for the meal to come.

"Just hang in there." _Will do, kitty, will do..._

* * *

He had been right. This restaurant did not serve any hamburgers. It was one of those places with gilded curtain rods and hideous embroidered carpets hanging from the walls. The kind of place you go to to talk in a voice like you have something stuck in your throat, and to act like you were as big as your bank account. Of course they would only serve dreg. Of the fancy kind, of course.

So, Goten had politely declined the disgusting quinoa and slug salad that Gohan offered to order for him, and had gone for the steak instead. There wasn't much to be screwed up there, so he reckoned it was his safest bet.

Meanwhile his mother and brother were having a conversation as they waited for their food to arrive. Goten was content to just listen and have little actual input himself.

"So I reckon that Bulma's been keeping you occupied, hasn't she?" Chi-Chi asked, nipping her wine. She had thrown on the prettiest dress that she could find, cause god forbid that she did not abide by the dress code. Not Son Chi-Chi, oh no.

Gohan was impeccable in his suit, as always. "Yeah, I guess you can say that," he laughed, scratching the back of his neck in what had become a family gesture over the years. "We've been working on a patent for a prosthetic arm that could be designed with artificial nerve endings. That way someone who lost an arm can actually feel again once they get the prosthetic." Gohan looked down at the table as if this was not a major scientific breakthrough, like artificial nerve endings were as common as garden gnomes with fishing rods.

"Oh, wow, honey, that's brilliant!" Chi-Chi beamed. She nudged Goten in his ribs with her elbow, so Goten smiled and nodded in agreement. "What would the world do without my bright little man!"

Gohan blushed a furious red and lowered his head even more. "Not that little anymore, Mom."

Goten could not resist the urge. "Sure you are, we're all her little boys, aren't we, Mom?" Watching Gohan try to stay humble as their mother showered him in compliments was one of the funniest things in life. Gohan would start mumbling and grow red in the face, just like right now. It was better than television and almost as good as playing BlasterSmash. Or playing Banshee.

"You're damn right, Goten!" Chi-Chi cheered so loud that Goten almost contemplated buying her pom-poms for her next birthday. "And if anyone tries to tell me otherwise, they'll have to deal with me!" A faint pink hue was spreading over her cheeks. Mom had never really been able to handle her wine.

Gohan was adamant to shift the conversation elsewhere, so he rolled up his sleeves and directed his attention towards his little brother.

"So, Goten, are you feeling excited for school yet?" he asked. The look in his eyes was wary, as if he was expecting a negative reply. But Goten wasn't going to give him one. Sure, he wasn't exactly over the moon, but he wasn't kicking the wall either. And besides, both Gohan and his mother had worked so hard to pull all of this off, so there was no way in hell that he would spoil their appetites by being ungrateful.

"I'm good," Goten told him. "I mean, I think it's going to be hard to fit in at first, because there weren't that many kids my age at Mt Paozu. But I think I'll manage."

"Nonsense," his mother interjected, taking another royal swallow of wine. "They'll love you to bits, just you watch. Like they'll be able to resist a handsome face like yours. All the girls will be swooning."

Goten laughed at that. "Sure Mom, whatever you wish."

"Yeah, I guess it's best not to worry too much," Gohan advised. "I remember when I first went to school, boy was I nervous."

"Uh-huh," Goten agreed. "You told me like a million times, Gohan. You were a nervous wreck when you first went to school, but you made new friends right off the bat. Not only that, but you met your wife there too."

"Right," Gohan said. "So if someone as socially inept as me can pull it off, it shouldn't be a problem for you."

That made Goten smile. Gohan always knew what to say and when to say it; his mother, sweet -and strict- as she may be, lacked a certain amount of tact.

Just then the waiter came around with their meals, so they relished some of their food in silence before continuing their conversation. Goten was now very grateful that he had chosen the steak, since it tasted terrific. It was probably six hundred zeni a piece, but he wasn't paying the check, so he'd be damned if he didn't enjoy it.

Gohan picked up the talk after a small pause filled with the sound of silverware hitting plates.

"So, Mom, have you considered my offer?" he asked as he ladled his appetizer soup down.

Chi-Chi was quick to shake her head. "Oh no, Gohan, you know I couldn't do that."

"What's the big deal? It's not like it's hurting me any, and if I can help you then I'd say it's a win-win situation."

"I said no, Gohan," Chi-Chi wagged her finger at him. "So that's final. I don't want to hear anything more about it, am I clear?"

Goten raised his eyebrows at the exchange. "Excuse me, but what kind of deal are you talking about?"

"Well, I offered Mom to help out with paying some of the bills," Gohan explained. "I know that money is tight, so I figured that since I can spare some I'd help where I can."

"Ah, and Mom is too proud to let you help her."

"No, that's not it," Chi-Chi insisted while tutting her lips. "Gohan has worked hard for his money, so he deserves to keep it. And no, that won't get us into any trouble. I already found a job, so don't worry about it. We'll be fine."

"Oh, wow, that's great!" Gohan exclaimed. "Where are you going to work?"

"At the convenience store down the block. It's great, it's close to home and I can work there full time, so paying off the bills should be no problem."

Goten reached out for his mother's hand and stroked the back. "That's fantastic, Mom. I suppose it would be good for you to get out of the house and do something again. Especially after, you know..."

And they all knew. Goten didn't even have to speak it out loud. They might be all smiles and cheer now, but not too long ago that had not been the case.

Chi-Chi smiled back at him and pulled him into a hug that almost crushed his bones. "Thank you, sweetie," she whispered into his hair. "You really are a good kid."

When she released him, Gohan made sure to lure the conversation away from the sadder subjects. "So I take it that you guys are almost done unpacking?"

Goten nodded between bites of his steak. God this stuff was delicious. Perhaps he could persuade Gohan into buying him another one... "I know I am. I even got the system set up, so I think I'll be shooting aliens all night."

Gohan laughed. "Well at least you got your priorities straight. And what about Banshee?"

"Are you kidding? She was about the first thing I unpacked."

"You better," Gohan fake-threatened. "Cause if I hear that you don't treat her right, I'm calling social services on you."

Now it was Goten's turn to laugh. All the while their mother sighed, knowing that Goten could talk about his guitar and nothing else, for the rest of his life.

When dinner was done, Gohan had another proposition that he had saved until dessert. They were all scooping away at their monstrous sundaes as he spoke.

"So, I was hoping that the two of you might enjoy a little trip to Capsule Corps," he said, talking about his place of work. "I already asked Bulma if it was okay to give you a tour of the place. She said it was fine, but only if she was allowed to be the guide."

"Oh, Gohan, that sounds wonderful," Chi-Chi said. "You always talk about how much you love your job, so now I can see for myself what's so great about it."

Gohan's eyes landed on Goten, awaiting a response.

Goten shrugged his shoulders. "Sounds good to me," he answered. "I don't have school for another week, so I'll take whatever chance I can to kill some time."

"Great!" Gohan said, clapping his hands together. "We can do it this Thursday if you have the time."

"Oh, we'll be there!" Mom answered for the both of them. "I'm just dying to meet Bulma Briefs too. I bet we'll be the best of friends."

"Yeah, no doubt about it, Mom," Gohan chuckled. "Say, did I ever mention..."

Goten had already lost track of the conversation. His chocolate and vanilla sundae was just too heavenly to ignore, let alone be distracted while he ate it. The trip to Capsule Corps sounded fun enough. He didn't really care for science all that much, but it would prove to be interesting. Too bad that he still had to wait three more days before he had something proper to do.

Ah well, that only meant that he could spend more time decimating invaders in the name of Vegitasei. He could've gotten a worse deal.

* * *

"Oh you motherf-" Trunks cursed as loud as his vocal cords allowed him. He was staring at the enormous television that took up over half of the wall in his room, a controller in his grasp and his knuckles turning white against it from the pressure.

"Damnit!" He was playing BlasterSmash -what else- and he had been doing a damn good job of it so far. His character, a big and burly man with several weapons strapped to his back, was marching along the dark red plains of planet Vegitasei, looking for the enemy. Trunks always preferred to play with the Saiyan race rather than the Tuffles. The Saiyans were physically strong and could have perks that ranged from a super strong punch to the ability to minimize their energy usage to stay away from Tuffle radars. The opposing race had its vices too, mostly in terms of advanced technology, but Trunks just enjoyed the brute force that could be unleashed when playing with the Saiyans. The Tuffles were pussies and nothing else.

Enfin, he had been on one of the biggest winning streaks in his BlasterSmash career. He had taken out the entirety of the enemy time three times over and he hadn't taken any damage so far. Just imagine his rage when some Tuffle bastard stabbed him in the back during that one second that he wasn't paying attention.

His character toppled over and Trunks cursed once more. He had been doing so great, so goddamn great, and now his record was shot to hell. He had needed only three more kills to set a new one, but now all he could do was fume and hope that a player from his team would help him up before he respawned. If so, he wouldn't have to chalk up his first death of the match just yet.

Someone better help him, or he would start the friendly fire. Nobody messed with screen name Captain Underpants -a play on Briefs, geddit?- and got away with it. As Trunks watched the thin red bar at the bottom of the screen drop closer towards zero, he contemplated tossing the controller against the wall, since it would at least quell his rage on the surface.

But just before Captain Underpants finally croaked, another Saiyan swooped in and helped him to his feet. Trunks let out a large puff of air that he hadn't realized he had been holding in. He wasn't dead yet. He could still break his record.

He only had a moment to do so, but he still checked out the screen name above his saviour. The guy's name was BansheeBlues. Trunks made a mental note to thank him after breaking his record. He'd be damned if he let it slip now.

This particular level was easy enough. The setting was an open plain on Vegitasei, with amber mountains in the background and a moon of the same colour creeping along the horizon. It was not difficult to spot enemies here, so Trunks ran across the wastelands with his blaster held high. He spotted the first Tuffle just over a ridge. He took him out without even pausing to aim.

Captain Underpants barreled down the slope and crouched down there, using the rock against his back for cover. He looked left, right, then left again, where he spotted another one of those tiny bastards. He made sure to put the blast right between the eyes, for extra humiliation. A third one tried to creep around the corner, but Trunks saw the barrel of his blaster before he could point it at the Captain. Just when the enemy had the Captain in his crosshairs, Trunks tossed a grenade at his feet. The Tuffle flew a good three feet before coming down into a pile of dismembered limbs. God, he loved this game.

He was now on par with his record. Trunks could feel his heartbeat accelerating in real life, his hands getting clammy on the controller. If he managed to peg off another Tuffle he would break his high score. Not to mention that he would enter the global top fifty if he took out three. He had been teetering in the sixties for weeks and it was bothering him beyond anything else. He had been an avid player of BlasterSmash for years and he wanted to prove it. And this was his chance.

He turned back to the ridge when he saw no more enemies in front of him. He first tossed a flash grenade over, followed by a real one. Captain Underpants climbed the rocks to see if his assault had managed to do any damage.

There was a huddle of three Tuffles standing not too far away, and just like Trunks had calculated the flash grenade detonated smack in the middle. Whoever was controlling the enemy was now deaf and blind, so any oncoming attack would be lethal. One Tuffle managed to break away from the group just in time, right before the second explosion killed the other two and coated the Vegatan wasteland in a rain of blood and guts. Trunks smirked when he shot the third in the kneecap.

The gaggle of adversaries now dead, Trunks quite literally screamed out in joy. He had done it, he had finally won. Not only had he broken his record by three kills, but he was also officially part of the global top tiers. And he still had three minutes to spare in this match.

By the end of it, he had managed to take down another nine Tuffles, which he considered average. During a good game he could take out about five of them in a minute, so three would also suffice. He sucked in his breath when the bout ended and Captain Underpants filled the screen in all of his glory. A list of scores appeared next to his character and once again Trunks almost jumped out of his skin. He had managed a 64-0 win. If that wasn't impressive, nothing was.

Still in his bliss over having entered the global top fifty, Trunks scoured the list of names. He found BansheeBlues where he least expected him to. Above him. That meant that the guy had done better. Trunks's mouth fell open when he saw the score next to screen name.

 _77-0... Insane. Just insane._

Trunks flipped up the game menu and edged the joystick towards BansheeBlues's name. He clicked it and a message box appeared, as well as a keyboard. Trunks typed a quick message to whom he still dubbed his saviour.

 _Hey dude, thnx a lot 4 helping me up. Appreciate it loads._

Two check marks appeared next to his text, which turned green a few seconds later. BansheeBlues had read his message. His screen name was replaced by ellipses, which indicated that he was typing.

 _No prob, glad to help. See ya did good._

Trunks smiled, feeling flustered over a compliment that he had gotten from some dude with no name on the other end of a screen. Who knew, maybe it wasn't even some kid his age, but some woman on the other end of the world who owned seventeen cats and sang musical tunes all day. Either way, he still felt flattered; BansheeBlues had done a lot better than him as it was.

 _Maybe, but u killed it man. U helped me break my record and now Im top 50, but still not as good as you._

BansheeBlues was typing again. Trunks found that he was waiting with breath held, not wanting the conversation to end as soon as the next text bubble popped up on the screen.

 _Years of practice. Same goes for you, no?_

Trunks was smiling now. This BansheeBlues guy kept the conversation going, which was pleasant. Maybe, just maybe, he could befriend this unknown player. It would be great to have a regular partner when blasting Tuffles to hell.

 _Defo. Been murdering Tuffles for 5 yrs ez._

BansheeBlues was working on his reply only a second after Trunks's text appeared in the chat.

 _Aight. Seven years for me. Still not in top twenty though, fuck._

Trunks laughed out loud. Hell, that would mean that he still had to play this freaking game for another two years before he got to be as good as BansheeBlues, let alone make his way into the top ten of the world. But perhaps his saviour could help him on his way there. Thinking fast he typed an answer.

 _Shit. Mind if I add u to my ingame friends? Id luv to play on the same team again._

Ding. Another message from the Banshee.

 _No prob, thought the same. But only if we can play two vs. two. We'll kill 'em all if we do._

Trunks cracked a wide grin. BansheeBlues was an odd sort of guy, he could tell. Who in his right mind would take the time to spell and punctuate a sentence like that in a video game chat? Still, the guy had some serious Tuffle-killing chops, and that could not be ignored. Without further ado he added him to his gaming friends. From now on he could always send him a message and invite him to play.

His new ally was typing again. Trunks groaned when he read the text.

 _Sorry bud, got to go now. Got shit to do._

Trunks sighed. He couldn't blame him, he supposed. A glance at the clock told him that it was past one in the morning, and he would have to get up himself by seven. Come to think of it, he better get himself some shut-eye as well. He typed one last question back.

 _School?_

The reply came almost instantly.

 _Nah, not until next week._

Trunks rolled his eyes, feeling a soft pang of jealousy.

 _Lucky..._

Ding.

 _Eh, not so much. Bored most of the time. Anywho, really have to split. Wanna meet up tomorrow at eight? We could knock the shit out of those Tuffles in the Royal Palace level._

Trunks nodded feverishly, as if BansheeBlues would be able to see the action.

 _Defo. See ya 2morrow._

And then the guy signed off, leaving Trunks by himself.

Trunks turned off all of his gaming equipment and undressed for bed. It took him some tossing and turning to find a comfortable position, with all the adrenaline from breaking his record still coursing through his veins.

And when he finally did fall asleep, he did so with a smile, thinking that for the first time in his life he had made a friend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Heya! I got chapter 2 ready a LOT sooner than I had originally anticipated, so here you are! It's a bit shorter than the previous one, but I hardly think it'll matter.**

 **I kinda wanna make this one out to nancy103. I hope it won't freak you out, nancy, but every now and again I have to do a shout out to my oldest and, not to forget, most consistent and loyal fan.**

 **Now, the emotional stuff aside, off we go!**

 **Please read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2.**

Capsule Corps wasn't too far away from their new house. It would only take about ten minutes of walking to get there, so Goten and Chi-Chi had opted to take the scenic route and go by foot. Goten used the majority of the trip to get acquainted with the neighbourhood, trying to find landmarks that could help him navigate through this part of the city. He had a horrible sense of direction, so he would clamp on to every bit of help that he could get.

So far they had passed a lot of fast food restaurants -a lot- and your usual wine and cheese stores. Goten did his best to remember the names, but much like his ability to walk around without getting lost, his skills in French were beyond atrocious. Thank the heavens for GPS.

His mother was an explosive bundle of cheer today, and it proved to be infectious to Goten's mood. It had taken a while, but as time progressed Chi-Chi was having more and more of what Goten called 'good days'. She still had a long way to go, but in a few years she would be back to the stern, but loving woman that had done such a fabulous job of raising him.

So, today was one of her better days. Goten saw this reflected in every little thing about her. She had thrown on her favourite summer dress to go with the good weather, a turquoise one with lily flowers along the ribcage. She looked absolutely radiant in it, and image that was fortified by the happy tune that she was humming. Goten lagged back a little, content to just listen and watch her skip along the sidewalk in the warmth of the sun.

"Ooh, Goten, look!" his mother exclaimed. He followed her pointing finger. "How about we go out for some ice cream over there once we're done at Capsule Corps? It looks like they have a few hundred flavours to choose from."

"Sure," Goten agreed. "But if they don't have Caramel-Choco-Nut-Blast we're going someplace else."

"Deal!" Chi-Chi cheered.

Goten got about five more minutes of enjoying Chi-Chi's company before Capsule Corps came into view. The main building was gigantic and shaped like a dome, and, not to mention, an architectural masterpiece. Hundreds upon hundreds of windows provided a constant influx of light. A massive field of grass lay behind it, cobblestone paths dividing it and leading to smaller buildings. And, though Goten could've been mistaken, he thought he spied an elephant stomping around the grounds.

 _Holy tits, they even have a zoo._

It wasn't the most impressive, though. No, what baffled Goten the most was the house at the end of the street. It was humongous and easily ten times the size of the ones around it. It drew a stark contrast with the other residences that seemed to be meant for families in the middle class. It was most likely were Bulma Briefs lived.

There was a bustle of people around the main building. Most of them looked professional in their white labcoats, but others gave of the distinct impression of mad scientists. Nearly all of them were either carrying random trinkets or pieces of fragile machinery. Goten did not envy them; it appeared that superior intelligence came with a never-ending state of stress. Thanks, but no thanks.

The interior was easily as stunning as the outside. The entrance hall alone was big enough to fit Goten's house in. The entire floor consisted of tiles in a deep blue hue that reminded Goten of Banshee. For a second his fingers gave that usual involuntary twitch that came to be whenever his guitar slipped into his mind.

Gohan was already waiting for them. He was standing in the middle of the room with his arms wide, a gesture that almost seemed to scream 'Look at how fucking awesome this place is!'. A smile took over his face when Goten and Chi-Chi approached him.

"Mom, Goten, I'm so glad you guys could make it!" he said, hugging his mother and ruffling Goten's hair. The younger sibling feigned an annoyed glare that made Gohan laugh.

"Oh, Gohan, you know we wouldn't miss it for the world!" Chi-Chi said. "I've been wanting to visit here ever since you got your job."

Goten shrugged. "I'm just here for the free food."

Gohan laughed out loud. "Well I'm sure we can take care of that. But before we do, how about I show you guys around? Bulma should be waiting in her office and she'll take over the tour from there."

"Sounds like a plan," Goten said.

"Alright, then we're off!" Gohan exclaimed. He marched off with Goten and Chi-Chi following his steps. He led them through a door on the right. In here they were immediately greeted by the sound of heavy machinery. Contraptions that Goten did not even want to try and figure out were scattered across a room the of a football field.

"This is the industrial room," Gohan began to explain. "There's two more of these rooms somewhere around the compound, but I'm not going to bore you with those. In here the products are made that you can buy in stores. Whenever we get another patent approved we produce a few hundred of whatever item we want to sell, and we try to market them. If they're a success they go to one of the other factory halls, where they will be mass-produced."

Gohan nudged his head and walked away again, treading along the width of the hall. On the far end was another door that they passed through, which led them into a room that was a splendid white. To Goten it resembled the sterile operating rooms in hospitals. It even smelled the same. He scrunched his nose, not feeling very pleased to be here. He despised hospitals; he had inherited his father's fear of needles. That he wanted to be covered in tattoos one day was an entirely different matter, of course.

"This is the place where we do our nano research. Any idea what that is?" Gohan arched his eyebrows up high and gave an encouraging smile. Both Goten and Chi-Chi shrugged.

"Well, nanotechnology is basically another word for 'damn, that's small'," Gohan told them. "We use the term 'nano', because here we invent microchips that are only a few nanometers long. To put it to proper scale, one nanometer is a billionth of a regular meter."

"So what if you get a hair or something in there?" Goten asked. "Wouldn't that mess up all of the hard work?"

"Good question!" Gohan complimented him. "Look over there and you'll see."

Goten looked in the direction where Gohan was pointing towards. A man was hoisting himself into what appeared to be a radiation suit. A thick helmet with a layer of triplex across the eyes was at his feet. His arms had been stuffed away into latex gloves that reached up to his elbows.

"Those suits are sterilized every time someone leaves the research room," Gohan explained. "In order to do their work properly our scientists can't have anything contaminating their research, not even a single particle of dust."

"I'd hate to be in charge of the laundry here," Chi-Chi said, taking note of the few dozen people working here alone.

Gohan chuckled. "Eh, we don't have anyone in charge of the laundry. We just put them in this machine that cleans them off in under five minutes."

"Ooh!" Chi-Chi cooed. "Could I get one of these for at home?"

"I'll see what I can do," Gohan replied, winking at her.

After that Gohan brought them into a deserted hallway. They walked through it and climbed a staircase at the end. They continued their journey for a good five minutes, nothing of particular interest found along the way. They eventually halted in front of a door made of heavy wood. Gohan marched inside without even knocking. The plaque on the door informed Goten that this was his office, as well as Bulma's.

The woman in question was sitting behind a gigantic desk when they entered. She looked up from her paperwork and broke out into a smile. Bulma rose from her seat and moved towards them, a hand outstretched.

"Hi!" she cheered. "It's so great to finally meet you! I've only been waiting for what, eight years is it now?"

"I'm pretty sure it's been nine by now," Gohan corrected her.

"See?" Bulma said. "Case in point." She extended her hand towards Chi-Chi. When the mother of two grabbed it to give a polite shake, Bulma pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

"I take it that you are Chi-Chi?" Bulma asked when she had released the other woman from her lethal grip.

"I am," Chi-Chi replied, a small smile adorning her features.

"So you are the woman responsible for putting this wonderful set of brains on the Earth," Bulma said, nudging Gohan in the ribs with her elbow. "Honestly, I wouldn't know what I'd do without him. He makes sure I don't lose my mind on a daily basis."

"Yeah, he's pretty good at that," Chi-Chi remarked. "Though it really wouldn't hurt him to read up on some more feminine subjects. Videl is always complaining to me how much of a typical man he can be, with his loud machines and all."

"Boys will be boys," Bulma pointed out. "Which makes we wonder, what was he like as a kid, anyway?"

Chi-Chi laughed loudly. "Oh, not much different, really. Always with his nose in the books and never paying attention to something that didn't explode if you looked at it funny."

"I bet he was a cute one too."

"You're damn right, he was. Hey, if you want to, you can come over for a cup of coffee sometimes. I'll show you all of his baby photos."

"Make it tea and you've got yourself a deal."

"Mom, Bulma, could you please stop discussing my baby years?" Gohan pleaded. "Really, I'm not a kid anymore."

Chi-Chi tutted her lips. "Oh, Gohan, I think I remember us having this exact conversation last Monday. You'll always be my little boy, and you would do well to keep that in mind."

Goten was following the whole exchange with an enormous grin stretched over his gums. Truly, it never got old to see his mother bluster over Gohan. The way he would start to mumble and blush was just too funny to let slide.

"And that would make you Goten, am I right?" Goten was snapped from his musings by the sound of Bulma's voice. He shook the hand that she extended and before he knew it he too was dragged into a hug that squeezed every bit of air from his lungs. With the final remainder of oxygen in his body he managed to confirm that yes, he was indeed called Goten.

"Oh, I've been waiting to meet you too, sweetie," she told him. "Did you know that Gohan never, ever shuts up about you?"

Goten gave a chuckle. "Really? I hope he's not soiling my good name."

"Ugh, if only he did," Bulma laughed. "All he does is praise you, seriously. It's 'Goten is so good at this', and 'You should've seen Goten do that'. Really, it pisses me the hell off sometimes."

"Yeah, he's really good at kissing ass," Goten agreed. He ignored Gohan's sputters of protest.

"Oh totally," Bulma continued to chip in. "I even considered tattooing his lips on my butt cheek at one point. Too bad my husband hated the idea."

Goten couldn't help himself. Before he knew it he was laughing so hard that he was turning red in the face. He had just met this woman and he already loved her to bits. Perhaps he could ask her if he could come over for coffee and a chat every once a while, God knew he needed more laughs like this one.

Meanwhile Gohan stood to the side, pouting his lip and clearly not enjoying the jokes at his expense. Chi-Chi assured him that they weren't being serious, but Gohan did not seem to want to believe it.

"But honestly, Gohan does praise you a lot," Bulma went on. "From what I hear you have knack for playing the guitar."

Goten nodded. "Uh-huh. Gohan got me one like nine years ago, when he first started working for you. It was the best present I ever got."

"And what do you play?" Bulma asked.

"Well, Banshee plays the blues," Goten replied. "I just sing along a bit and try to make it look like I know what I'm doing."

"Oh, sweet!" Bulma cried out. "You know, there's some great music joints in the area. A lot of them have blues artists playing throughout the weekend, you should check it out."

"Oh, killer," Goten said. "We didn't have any bars back at home. Guess it's a downside of living in the mountains."

"Now Goten, living at Mt. Paozu wasn't all that bad, you know," Chi-Chi interjected.

"It wasn't," Goten said, smiling at her. "But now that we've been here for a few days I have to admit that the city does have its perks."

"Right, Mom," Gohan agreed. "You'll get used to it soon enough."

"Oh, I guess you're right," Chi-Chi relented. "It's just that I've been so worried about everything turning out okay, with my new job and Goten going to school and all."

"Well you shouldn't," Goten soothed her. "I'll do great in school, just you watch."

Suddenly he was very aware of Bulma's observing eyes, trimmed solely on him. He was about to ask her if something was wrong, but she voiced her question just before that.

"Will you be attending South City High?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her tone.

"I am, actually," Goten answered.

"And would you happen to know which class you'll be in?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure it's class 3A."

"Oh goodness!" Bulma replied, giving a loud, whooping cheer. "That means you'll be in the same class as my son! His name is Trunks, and I'm sure the two of you will get along."

"Bulma," Gohan said. "Don't you think it's a little early to start pushing Goten into a social life?"

"Oh, what do you know," Bulma shot back, slapping Gohan's upper arm. "Besides, I think my Trunks can use a few friends who are down to earth like Goten is. The poor kid is constantly swarmed by people who only want him for his money."

"Ouch," Goten remarked. "Well if you want to I can keep an eye out for him."

"Oh, would you?" Bulma gasped. "Oh, Goten, come here." She pulled him into another one of her bone-shattering hugs. "Now I see why Gohan adores you so much."

Goten wheezed a reply that she probably did not hear.

When she released him she had a determined smile on her face. "Now, how about we take the rest of that tour?"

* * *

"Geez, what's got you so happy today?"

Trunks looked to the side and saw Marron, a quizzical look on her face as she shifted her position in the grass beneath their usual hang-out tree. She had opted for pink ribbons in her hair today, adding to the sugar-sweet image that Trunks already had of her. Normally he would give a little shudder, partially because it was Marron and mostly because he despised the colour pink, but he let it be. She was right. He _was_ happy.

Trunks shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing much, how come?"

"Because," Marron said, holding up a hand and making it quite clear that she was about to fire off into a massive explanation. "I haven't seen you smile like this since, I dunno, ever. Not to mention that you haven't made any nasty remarks for the whole day, which is kind of sketchy if you ask me. You're supposed to be a sourpuss, Trunkie, don't ruin the image I have of you."

"Why, would that make you upset?"

"Hmmmm, no," Marron replied. "But I don't like change."

Trunks rolled his eyes. "What else is new." He took a cigarette from the carton in his pocket and lit it. "But nah, I guess I've been pretty cheery the past few days. It's because I destroyed my record on BlasterSmash."

Marron gave a deep sigh and plucked the cigarette from between his fingers. "I should've known," she said between puffs. "It's always that damn video game with you, isn't it?"

"Hey, don't hate," Trunks laughed a genuine laugh. He honestly couldn't recall the last time he had done that in Marron's presence, but today he would make an exception. "Besides, I didn't do it alone, you know. I met a guy in the game and we've been playing together pretty non-stop."

A devilish smile curled around Marron's lips. "Ooh, what is this I hear? Has Trunkie got himself a boyfriend?"

Trunks snatched the cigarette back from her, simultaneously flipping her off. Marron laughed out loud.

"Oh, c'mon Trunkie, you know I'm just teasing."

"Sometimes it's not all that clear with you."

"Tsck," Marron scoffed. "Like you are Mister Pleasure To Be Around all of the time."

"I never said I was."

"True, but I thought I should remind you."

A new voice reached Trunks's ears. "Hey! Marron, Trunks! What's up?"

Both of them looked up to see a boy of around Trunks's age coming towards them. Marron's mouth immediately gapped a little upon seeing his features, and even Trunks, who refrained from judging people on their appearance, had to admit that the guy looked pretty good. A lot of girls at their school were usually swooning over his green eyes and his waving, rust-coloured hair. He was a little too dolled up in Trunks's opinion, but hey, nobody was perfect.

Even so, Jasper, as the boy's name was, was a pretty cool dude. Jasper was on the list, the incredibly short list, of people who Trunks could stand to be around. Jasper was a drummer and this was clear in everything about him. Whenever the two of them were in the same room, he was always tapping his hands or fingers on whatever surface available. Trunks had since learned to block out the sound.

Jasper had never even tried to bring up the subject of money around Trunks. Perhaps he knew how much the purple-haired boy despised it. Either way, Trunks was very grateful for this. It had cemented Jasper as a true friend in his point of view, or at least a very friendly acquaintance. Without doubt, Jasper was the best non-feathered friend that he could think of.

Said boy joined them underneath the tree. Trunks offered him a cigarette, but he declined. Jasper immediately fired off into a conversation.

"So, what's this I hear about a new kid in our class?"

"Oh, yeah, Clearwater told us all about it," Marron replied without hesitation. "Apparently he'll join you starting next Monday."

"Lucky," Jasper said, nudging Trunks on the shoulder with his fist. "I haven't had any new classmates for years now."

"Eh," Trunks shrugged his shoulders. "I guess he'll be alright."

"I hope he's more than alright," Marron said, a hazy smile spreading over her face. "I need a cute new guy to ogle."

"Can you not think about anything else?" Trunks complained.

"I can, but I choose not to."

Both Trunks and Jasper rolled their eyes at the same time.

"Anyway," Jasper picked up the conversation. "I think this guy's a musician like me, which is pretty damn awesome. I saw that he already signed up for the musical course for next semester." He let his gaze travel across the field of grass, the look in his eyes contemplative. "God, I hope he plays the blues. We could use a new guitarist."

"So he plays the guitar, huh?" Marron smirked. Trunks swore he could see the lust in her eyes triple. Great, so she was one of those people who would do anything to bang the singer of the band. "That's so cool. Did you happen to remember his name?"

"I think he's called Goten Son, but that's all I know," Jasper replied.

"Ooh, a mystery boy," Marron cooed. "I'm sure he's a hottie, I just know it."

"Yeah, I kinda hope so too," Jasper replied. "I'd love a guitarist boyfriend."

Trunks raised his eyebrows at this. Sometimes he completely forgot that all the girls swooning over Jasper didn't have a chance in hell of being with him. Probably because Jasper defied all the stereotypes of a gay man; he enjoyed horror movies and banging stuff with wooden sticks, not rainbows and unicorns and talking like an aristocrat woman. That, and he loathed pink as much as Trunks did.

"Oh right, I forget you're a poof sometimes," Marron poked Jasper in the ribs. "Okay, fine, let's have a bet. Whoever bags the new guy gets treated to dinner."

"Oh, you're on!" Jasper said, shaking her hand. "Trunks, you'll be our ref, right?"

Trunks lit another cigarette. "Sure, why not."

"Then it's a deal," Marron declared. "I guess I have luck on my side, though. Who could resist a pretty face like this?"

"I know I can," Jasper replied.

Trunks laughed so hard that he felt he might rupture something. "And you're not alone there."

Marron huffed and crossed her arms. "I hate you guys so much right now."

Trunks smiled. "And we wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

South City Park was a magnet for everything annoying. You had your lovey dovey couples that turned your stomach into a swirling mess of bile. Overweight, middle aged men clad in running gear, who were always stretching but never jogging. And children, oh god, the children. They were everywhere, with all their screaming and squalling and crying and _ugh._

Still, Trunks was here every day. His nose would be scrunching for most of the route to his destination, since he had no intention of hiding his disgust. People wouldn't mind either, they read every expression on his face as if it were a smile. The ones that didn't exactly enjoy his presence always considered him to be a smug little shit, nice and comfortable in his rich little estate.

Too bad they weren't here to see him now, walking with a plastic bag full of stale, dry bread. This would be his only trip out of the house for the entire day, so he hadn't bothered much when it came to presenting himself to the public. His hair was a mess, a tracksuit and runners old and worn down. His father would say that he looked like a pauper.

The pond was not too far away anymore. Trunks felt like sighing in relief. This was the part of his daily routine that he always dreaded, so leaving it behind him was almost a blessing. Although, truth to be told, he hadn't done a whole lot of scowling the past few days. Strangely enough he also felt guilty about that.

He hadn't visited the ducks since Tuesday. He had wanted to go, obviously, but the past few mornings he had overslept several times. He had spent his nights playing BlasterSmash and it had tired him out. So he had skipped out on feeding the ducks for a few days. It was somewhat ridiculous that he felt like he owed something to several dozen ducks, but he still did. He would make sure to go sleep at a bit of a proper time next week, so he could keep up the daily trips.

He had reached the pond and he dropped himself down on one of the benches along its bank. Immediately about twenty ducks began to swarm him. Trunks grinned. See, they were counting on him. Or at least they had by now learned to recognize him and knew that a head of purple hair meant food. _Damn you, Pavlov..._

His little bout of absence did have its merits, though. Today he had been able to gather a lot more scraps than usual, and his feathered little buddies would be delighted to know that. He ruffled through the bag and retrieved an end piece of bread, He tore it into a handful of pieces and began tossing them into the water one by one. He made sure to scatter the bits as much as he could, so all the ducks would get about an equal share.

They scattered like madmen, diving after the bread and tossing their heads back to drop it down their gullets. And then his mom had the nerve to call him a messy eater.

Something quaked to his right and Trunks flinched. He had hoped that Beaker would be occupied at the moment, because if he was feeling particularly guilty towards anyone, it was him. The other ducks also had enough reason to be pissed at him, he reasoned, but then again, Beaker was special.

"What's up?" Trunks tried to keep it casual, shoving a hand into his pocket and swinging the bag of bread around. Why he was trying so hard to keep it cool around a fuck-mothering duck was way beyond him.

Beaker quacked again, ruffling his wings and plucking out a stray feather or two. He then jumped on the bench and remained still, aiming his red eyes at Trunks and lulling his head back and forth, as if studying him with great interest.

"What?" Trunks threw his hands up. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

Beaker said nothing.

"Ugh, okay, I know!" Trunks sighed, rolling his eyes. "I haven't been around a couple of days, I know. And I'm really sorry, honest!"

If someone were to pass by him now, they would be very much confused as to why there was a purple-haired boy arguing with an albino duck. Trunks knew it looked ridiculous. There was no sense in trying to explain himself to the animal, but a part of him felt obligated, even if Beaker was not able to comprehend human language. He had let down a friend after all.

"Can you at least say something?" Trunks pleaded. "Like, I get that you're pissed at me, I do, but the silent treatment isn't helping anyone, ya know."

Beaker gave a loud quack.

Trunks broke into a smile. "Okay, better." He reached into the bag in his hand and retrieved a full slice, because Beaker always got special treatment. The albino's eyes followed it back and forth, much like a dog awaiting a treat. Trunks tossed the slice at Beaker. It was gone before he could even blink.

"I knew you would forgive me," the boy mused. He reached out and stroked Beaker's feathers, who hopped onto his lap without argument. Like always he nestled himself in between Trunks's thighs, content to watch his comrades devour the bread that Trunks tossed into the pond.

"I really am sorry, though," Trunks said. "I've just been a little busy. Or, well, busy, we can argue about that all day. I've been playing BlasterSmash a lot, I told you about it, right?"

He could almost swear that he saw Beaker give a quick and curt nod.

"Okay cool. So I'm playing BlasterSmash, right, and I'm _this_ friggin' close to breaking my all-time record. I was playing as a Saiyan, of course, and just before I kill another Tuffle -I only needed two more after that one- I get stabbed in the back."

Beaker listened along as he regaled his heroic massacre of the Tuffle population.

"So I'm royally pissed off, you get that. So I'm laying there, dying, and I'm thinking about how hard I can toss my controller into the wall, right? But just before I respawn this guy helps me out, so I got to keep on playing without losing my shot at my record. I totally aced it, of course. Shot them all to fucking hell like it was nothing.

When the game was done I go to shoot this guy a message, cause he helped me break my record. Turns out he did a lot better than I did, which is, like, almost impossible. Cause I rule at that game, you know. Anyway, I message the guy and before I know it we're playing two vs. two. We fucking slayed everyone we came across, we're pretty much indestructible. Only downside is that I've been missing out on sleep big time."

It was strange, this explanation of his. It was weird that he felt the mere necessity to justify himself to a duck, of all things. But, truth to be told, who else did he have? No one. Marron would much rather listen to the sound of her own voice than pay any attention to his problems. His mother was a good enough listener, but something about having your mommy as your most trusted confidante just didn't sit right with him. He needed someone who could give him a more neutral point of view.

But all he had was Beaker.

Not that Beaker was a bad friend, but his advice wasn't as riveting as Trunks would have hoped. It most likely boiled down to 'gimme another slice of bread. It'll make you feel better, promise'.

Sighing, Trunks gave Beaker another pet across the head, then gave him another slice of bread. The duck might not have been a good consultant, but he could listen like the best of them.

Ah, Trunks Briefs, friendless but for an albino duck, a drummer with OCD and a screen name without even a face to go along. Not too bad if you considered it. He could be a drug addict. His parents should be grateful, oh so grateful.

* * *

There were not a whole lot of things in life that Goten truly enjoyed. There was BlasterSmash, of course, and playing Banshee was also a great way to pass the time. But after that his list of hobbies was reduced to almost nothing. Aside from the usual things there was one more activity that Goten could do for hours on end.

Goten figured that he was a decent enough writer. Not poetry or anything, cause he would do enough of that crap whenever he tried to write lyrics to a song. No, when he was busy on what he called 'writing', he would be working on a story that had been on his computer's hard drive for at least four years now. He had started it right after turning twelve, because little Goten had figured that he had struck gold with the idea that blasted into his brains that one random night.

He had been obsessed with fleshing his imaginary world out ever since. He would make sure to write on it at least an hour a day, because else he feared that he would lose touch with the reality that he was creating. Some days were easier than others, though, and right now he found himself cursing at the little dash blinking on the screen. He had been staring at it for at least thirty minutes, but his mind would not produce the words for his fingers to spur into existence. It was excruciating.

Really, he knew what was holding him back. Even though he had told everyone the opposite, Goten was becoming quite anxious about going to South City High. Over the past few days he had begun to realize that he did want to fit in, as much as he tried to deny it at first. He blamed Captain Underpants. That ass had showed him how pleasant it was to be able to talk to someone without having to feel the social pressure, to just be able to discuss everything and nothing. He had shown Goten friendship. And now he was hooked.

His addiction had rid anything else from his mind, like the novel that he was now facing, not a word to be added today. Just that realization alone made him want to grumble; arrogant as it may have been, Goten knew for a fact that he was working on one hell of an epic world.

The story followed the exploits of a boy who steps through a mirror and into an alternate reality. The idea itself was nothing new, but once Goten had begun writing it out, there had been no stopping. He just kept finding these awesome new facts about this parallel universe that was entirely his creation. It wasn't until he was fourteen that he had found out that literally everything in the mirror world was backwards. Everything. From the numbers on the clock to the colour scheme of daffodils. It was all upside down.

Much like his head. He couldn't make this work, not today. Goten powered down his computer and scooted his chair backwards. Out of habit more than anything else he took Banshee from her hooks, laying himself on his bed with his guitar crossed over his chest. His body had long since learned the sensation of Banshee near his heart, so his arms curved to accommodate. He found the amplifier within reach, so he plugged his baby in and made her sing the blues.

Today she was howling, long searing notes blaring through the room and lifting every hair on Goten's skin. Her song was one of sorrow, of a love lost that hasn't even been discovered. She sang of the pain of hindsight, about not realizing something before it is too late. The sound of it was raw, her deep tones rising in a crescendo of hurt.

Playing Banshee was so easy now, it just came to him. He did not have to think about what string to hit next, or which chords to use to progress a musical heartache that filled the room and bounced off the walls. It was just second nature. It surprised Goten still, because he had never faced a pain so great that it could match the tears that Banshee was crying. Maybe he just had an old soul.

He closed his eyes and let his fingers slide along her neck, enjoying the mild prickle of used wood and fibery string. The years passed behind his lids as he tried to draw from the source of Banshee's pain. It had to be inside him somewhere, he just knew it. The past three years had been the hardest of his life; they were the pinnacle of loss. But that wasn't what Banshee was singing about. It wasn't a mourning song.

What was it then, he questioned himself as a new tune seemed to slip from his fingertips. Could it be hurt of a physical kind?

No, that didn't seem right. No, Banshee had other things to tell him. This time he listened really hard, trying to discern any emotion in his own playing.

She was singing of... solitude. Goten opened his eyes wide, realizing what he was thinking. Banshee was playing the song of loneliness, an anthem for a man who has nobody to call his own, no one to hold. But admitting that she was singing _for_ him, _through_ him, was too painful to admit right now.

His fingers halted halfway down her neck, Banshee's wailing dying and bathing the room in total silence. Goten sighed and sat back up, ready to put her away.

"Why did you stop?" Gohan was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and half a smile on his face. "I haven't heard you play this well in ages, please go on."

Goten didn't even bother to ask what Gohan was doing here; probably over for dinner or coffee or something. Videl and Pan were probably downstairs too. Goten stayed perfectly still for a moment, Banshee sitting in his laps and keeping quiet.

"Pretty please?" Gohan asked, pouting his lower lip. Goten sighed. He couldn't say no when someone asked him to play for them. There was hardly anything he excelled at, so he took whatever chance he could at showing off. Resigning to himself, he began to strum.

He played for what seemed like hours, until his fingers were chaved with the friction and the piercing notes from Banshee's high register where pounding in his ears. All the while Gohan just stood in the doorway and watched him with that smile of his.

When he could play no more, he laid Banshee down beside him. He looked up at Gohan, hoping to get some explanation about why his brother was here. He didn't get one, though. Instead, Gohan chose a different topic of conversation.

"Something's bothering you," he said matter-of-factly.

Goten raised his brows, surprised at Gohan's observational skills. "Huh, how come?"

"Because the last time you played that good you were wearing funeral clothing."

Goten sighed and turned his gaze away, letting it glide over the instrument. He plucked her heavy E-string and she filled the room with a melancholic baritone. "Please don't talk about it," he mumbled.

Goten had learned how to play Banshee like a true artist during the past two years. He had been decent for a long time, but it wasn't until he had to walk down the gravel, straightening his tie and hoping that the tears wouldn't wreck his voice while he sang at the ceremony, that he had learned how he could convert suffering to music. Gohan had once told him something that stuck to him until this day. He had said that you cannot gain without first suffering the pain of loss.

"Okay, I won't," Gohan promised. He stepped into the room and sat down on Goten's bed, Banshee between them like a wall that they weren't allowed to break. The members of the Son family weren't strangers to showing affection, but as soon as someone put on a sad face, they had the tendency to freeze in place. That Gohan was going out of his way to talk to Goten about his worries was something exceptional. That hadn't happened since Goten was eight.

"Still though, I can tell that something's got your panties in a twist. Fess up."

Goten rolled his eyes. "It's nothing, really," he said, staring at the mess in his closet and musing to himself that he should straighten it out before his mother made him. "I suppose I'm just a little more worried about school than I first thought."

"Oh, how come?"

"I dunno," Goten mused. "I guess I'm concerned that the people there won't like me, is all. I'm afraid that they won't want to deal with the new kid from the mountains. They'll probably think I'm some brute caveman or something."

Much to his surprise, Gohan laughed out loud. "Well I think that too sometimes. I've seen you play BlasterSmash and I'll tell you what, it's nothing pretty."

That made Goten chuckle, although it did nothing to untie the nervous knot in his stomach. "Thanks, Gohan, but I'm serious. What if they all decide to give me the cold shoulder?"

Gohan fidgeted with Banshee's tuning pegs. Goten considered slapping him across the fingers, but a glare was enough to have Gohan draw in his hand like it was on fire. He then resumed their little therapy session.

"Well, the best advice that I can give you is to be yourself, even though it sounds like a total cliché. You're a great kid, Goten. You just need to show them that as well."

Goten wanted to thank him for his input, but it was like Gohan had said: It was the oldest trick in the book. Of course he would try to be himself, but only because he didn't have the energy to play charades all of the time. So instead of voicing his gratitude, Goten smiled at his brother, knowing the gesture to be sufficient.

"Okay, I will," he said. "But if it doesn't work, just remember, I know where you live."

Gohan laughed and rose from the bed. "Sure thing, Squirt." He took a look at himself in the full-length mirror on the wall, perhaps making sure that his tie was on straight, then turned back to Goten.

"So, any plans for the rest of the weekend? You know, before all hell breaks loose?"

"Oh yeah," Goten replied, a bubble of happiness swelling up inside him. "I met some guy on BlasterSmash. He's an amazing player and we've decided to join forces in the game. I'm pretty sure that we're the strongest tag team in the entire online community. We'll be playing two vs. two matches tonight and tomorrow."

"See?" Gohan pointed out, smiling. "You can make new friends, so what's got you so worried?"

Goten could see no flaw in that logic. Fair enough, he guessed he could call Captain Underpants a friend by now. They sure had been talking a lot ever since meeting each other. He hardly knew anything about the guy, but that wasn't necessary. They had bonded over their mutual disgust of the Tuffle Race, and that was all that mattered.

Although Goten did know that the Captain was only a year older than he was. And that he lived in a big city too, even if he couldn't tell where. Oh, and the Captain was as socially inept as he was, judging by the way he spoke about his school. He had used terms along the lines of 'fucking idiots' and 'suck-ups, every one of them'.

And he had told the Captain that his own screen name was derived from the beautiful piece of craftsmanship lying beside him. That, and because she played the blues. And he would talk to the Captain every night, as well as wreak havoc with him.

So yeah, the Captain was his friend. That was at least somewhat reassuring. Goten returned the smile Gohan sent him, now a little less scared out of his mind about the Monday to come.

"Are you staying for dinner?" he asked his brother.

Gohan nodded. "Uh-huh, Mom and Videl are in the kitchen cooking away. We're having lasagna, for your information."

"Hell yeah!"

"Dinner should be done in an hour or so," Gohan informed. "but if you wanna come downstairs sooner, that's fine. I bet Pan would love to have some play time with her favourite uncle."

"I'm also her only uncle," Goten pointed out.

Gohan sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, if you're gonna try to make friends at school, maybe you shouldn't act like such a smartass."

"...No promises."

* * *

 **Okay, so I never could've imagined how much of a freaking goldmine the ducks turned out to be. I fucking love them. So. Freaking. Much. And Banshee too, by the way. I really hit my stride in the final scene, but maybe it's just the blues in me :)**

 **Your thoughts are always appreciated!**

 **Till the next one.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Damn, I'm getting good at this. Would you guys believe me if I told you that I wrote this entire chapter in one sitting, not counting coffee, toilet and cigarette breaks? Well it's true O.o!**

 **Either way, here's another quick update. The next one might take a while because I have another story to finish, but very soon this story will be my top priority :).**

 **Now please read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

"Mom, no, knock it off..."

"Stop squirming or else you'll end up looking like a beggar, Goten!" Chi-Chi hovered over him, a comb at the ready and her right hand glistening with something greasy. She was likely going to smear it in his hair to give it a semblance of a shape, even though it was nothing but a lost cause. Goten's locks always went in every direction they pleased, creating a spiky mess that couldn't be tamed. He liked it, though. Not only was it unique to him, but it was also reminiscent of his father, and that's why he chose to cherish it instead of cursing it.

"This isn't going to help, Mom," Goten pointed out. To demonstrate he flattened the spikes against his head, but they bounced right back into their original position after a second or two. "See?"

Chi-Chi gave a weary sigh and grabbed for a towel, wiping her hands clean with the cloth. "Fine," she breathed. "But don't come running to me when everybody thinks you look weird. Then you can tell them that you don't listen to your mother's advice."

"Mom, I'm going to school, not off to war," Goten pointed out. He refrained from telling her how much the two seemed alike. "Seriously, what are you so afraid of?"

His mother's eyebrows lowered into a frown. "Lots of things, Goten. I want you to make lots of friends while you are there, so you would do well to try and look the part." A glimmer of mirth arose in her gaze, and a small smile curved her lips to contrast her prior expression. "Oh, and maybe you can meet your future girlfriend there too! Oh, honey, wouldn't that be great?"

Gooten rolled his eyes and tried not to smirk. "Sure Mom. whatever you say..."

Chi-Chi ignored his obvious attempt to steer away from this particular conversation, scurrying towards the kitchen counter to make his sandwiches for the day. Meanwhile she kept on talking. She always did that when she was nervous. It turned her into a waterfall of speech.

"Now that you mention it, you've never told me what kind of girls you like," she mused, her knife hanging in mid-air and a clump of butter threatening to fall off.

"To be honest, I haven't given it much thought," Goten replied, sighing. True, he had never considered finding a significant other to be all that important, at least not right now. He was only sixteen, for crying out loud. But he wouldn't tell Chi-Chi that, oh no. That woman was very likely already planning his wedding, down to the details on his cufflinks.

"Well you should," Chi-Chi advised him. "It's never too early to start thinking about your future, you know? Do you even know what kind of job you want once you finish school?"

"Yes Mom, I'm pretty sure I told you like a thousand times already," Goten raked a hand through his hair. "I want to play in a band and write books. I've known this since I was twelve."

"And I've been telling you ever since how that's not a very bright idea," Chi-Chi wagged her finger at him in a manner that he couldn't help but interpret as condescending. "There's absolutely no financial security, and god only knows how long it will take for you to make a name for yourself. Why don't you find a subject you're really good at and find a job related to it? It worked for Gohan."

This time it was Goten's turn to frown. "And I'm pretty sure I already told you that my name is Goten, not Gohan. So please stop trying to turn me into him. It's not going to work."

Chi-Chi faltered. "Goten, I didn't..."

"Yeah, yeah, you didn't mean it, of course you didn't," Goten rose from his seat and snatched the knife from her hands. He continued to make his sandwiches himself, looking for an excuse to avoid further conversation with his mother. "Seriously though, maybe you should check your priorities for me. You seem to have me mixed up with your other child a lot lately."

This particular talk kept looping in Goten's head all the way to school. He would sigh off remarks like these most of the time, but every now and again it really got under his skin. Chi-Chi was so adamant on making her boys scholars that she seemed to overlook their happiness every now and again. Or perhaps her idea of happiness consisted of a solid salary and a nine-to-five schedule. Well not for Goten. He'd be damned if he ever voluntarily pulled on a suit and tie.

And that happened to be the exact garments that his mother had forced on him that morning. When he had looked at himself in the mirror he felt the immediate need to rip the tie away and toss it into a garbage can, but it would only lead to further argument. Luckily he had been smart enough to foresee this happening, so he had packed an extra set of clothing into his school bag. The bus driver gave him a curious sort of look when he changed into a more casual attire, but otherwise said nothing. Goten took a moment to study himself in the bus's window.

He reasoned that he looked alright. His hair was still a mess, but there was nothing he could do to change that. The driver had given him a particularly strange look when he had switched pants, and the lord be praised that there was no one else on the commute to see his teddy bear boxers, but he felt a lot more comfortable now that he was wearing his tattered jeans. He wore a shirt by a band called the Gaslight Anthem, their name spelled out in a gritty lettering that was the result of years of washing and drying. His red sneakers tied the whole package together.

The bus came crawling to a stop right in front of South City High. Goten eyed the building, finding it to be nothing spectacular in terms of architecture. It was grey and square with nothing to really draw interest. That couldn't be said about the sea of green that enveloped it, though. Trees, flowers, grassy fields, it was like a sanctuary for the lovers of nature. Goten could already envision himself strumming on Banshee's strings on a nice autumn day, his worries melting away with the warmth of the sun. Perhaps this school thing wouldn't be too bad.

He kept his timetable and a map of the school's interior at the ready while he walked along the grounds. It would be a few minutes until class started, so a bunch of students were standing together in groups, mingling in what they probably considered to be the pique of their social lives. Goten was surprised to see the variety of people; while some were dressed in more simple garb, or looked like they were only trying to fit in, others were dressed more alternatively. He saw much more black than he had first anticipated. He liked that.

What he didn't exactly like were the stares that he was receiving. Almost all the heads turned in his direction when he passed by. Granted, South City High was an exclusive school, with not so many students attending, so he was bound to be noticed. An unfamiliar face was always interesting. He just hoped that they would consider him a part of the scenery soon.

Goten was stopped in his tracks just before he could actually enter the building. This because a huddle of kids about his age deemed it fit to observe him like he was some kind of animal in a zoo. Most of them seemed pretty bland, except for the girl with the pink hair, as well as the tall and sluggish boy that headed the group.

"'Sup!" The tall one said in a very loud and very obnoxious tone. "You mus' be the new kid! Name's Chett, nice to meet ya."

Goten shook the hand that Chett extended, introducing himself as well. His mother would flay him if he ever forgot his courtesies.

"So, you in my class or what?" Chett asked, once again using that voice that was making Goten's skin crawl. "3B?"

Goten shook his head, but repressed the sigh of relief that was building in his chest. "Nah, 3A."

"Damn," Chett said. "Too bad then. Well, nice meetin' ya anyway, gotta split. Class in five."

And just like that he was gone. Goten had to take a minute to let it sink in just how abrasive Chett had been. He could only pray that this didn't apply to every city dweller, cause if so he would be facing one hell of a long day.

With the danger having passed he could now focus on the matters at hand. First he would have to go to the administration desk to retrieve some additional paperwork that his mother would have to fill in. After that it was time for his first official class. According to his timetable it was to be second grade physics, something he sucked at so bad that it wasn't even fair anymore. Butterflies were swarming in his stomach when he considered the prospect. Damn Captain Underpants and his friendliness. Now he actually _wanted_ to do good and make friends. Damn him all to hell.

* * *

It was all too clear that they would be getting a new classmate today. Even Clearwater wasn't her usual self, running amuck around the room and making sure that everything looked as neat and tidy as it possibly could. Trunks enjoyed the change of pace well enough, cause the woman was normally so adamant on keeping order. A low murmur of voices was audible around him. Most of his fellow students were theorizing what kind of person the new arrival might be.

Trunks himself couldn't deny that he was getting curious also. Marron and Jasper had theorized what the kid could be like for most of Friday. Of course, a large part of their discussion had involved just how _cute_ the new guy was, but that aside Trunks felt that he might actually like him. He had a taste for music, that much was known, and after picking up on some whispers in the hallway he had discovered that Goten Son had moved to South City all the way from Mt. Paozu, which was a flight of several hours. With a little bit of luck Goten was so sheltered that he had never even heard of the name Briefs.

There was only one thing that rebuked that entire theory. Trunks had realized it just this morning. On more than one occasion his mother had invited her personal assistant over for dinner. He was a young man that was far too smart for his age. For god's sake, the guy had started working for Bulma when he was only eighteen. And being the PA of the world's most leading scientist at that age was nothing short of incredible. The first thing he had done once he had stepped over the threshold of the Briefs' residence was greet Trunks and Vegeta. The guy's name was Gohan. Gohan Son.

It could be a coincidence of epic proportions, but Trunks very much doubted it. This Goten kid was most likely Gohan's little brother. In a sense it was annoying, because it would mean that Goten knew Trunks's last name all too well, not to mention what it stood for. Then again, if he really _was_ Gohan's brother, perhaps he would be a little more aloof to Trunks's financial status. Who knew, he could be a brainiac like his sibling, hoping to land a job at Capsule Corps as soon as he was finished with school. Time could only tell.

Marron was talking even more than normal. Seriously, she just wouldn't keep her trap shut. The girl had way too much energy on your average Monday morning as it was, but today she was a bouncing ball of pure annoyance. Whenever she spat out another string of words Trunks felt the need to tell her to can it, but that wouldn't do. He could use the distraction to lead him away from his thoughts.

"Sooooooo..." Marron stretched her vowels the way she always did when a new point of discussion came to be. "Whaddaya think this new guy will be like?" She had asked Trunks this question a million times over already, but apparently she never grew tired of seeing him shrug or mutter something inconclusive.

"Dunno," Trunks grumbled, laying his head on his arms and watching absentmindedly as Clearwater rearranged the physics-themed posters along the wall for the third time in twenty minutes. "We know he plays music, and he's a mountain boy, nothing more. All we can do is wait."

"Eh, I guess you're right, Trunkie," Marron chided. "I do think we should invite him to come to lunch with us, don't you agree? We could help him make some friends on his first day here. Just imagine how grateful he'll be."

Trunks found himself agreeing with her. "Sure," he replied, not turning to look at her. "I can use somebody new to talk to." He didn't tell her that he also enjoyed the idea because it would cut into all the talking time she had been claiming the past several months. Anything to silence her, anything at all.

"Too bad Jasper had to call in sick, though," Marron kept droning on. "I bet he would've loved to join me in drooling over the newbie. If he's hot, of course."

"He could have a hare lip, a squashed nose, and buckteeth, and you would still try to eat his tonsils," Trunks pointed out helpfully. "Seriously, you're going to drool over him anyway, so what's the point of getting yourself worked up?"

"Well, how nice to hear that you think my standards are that low," Marron feigned a scowl, then went right back to smiling. "Besides, a girl needs to have something to fantasize about. You're no fun, so it's not like you're the man of my dreams."

Trunks turned to her and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right, but you still jaw-drop every time Jasper walks around the corner and he's as gay as can be. Face it, you've got something for guys who are out of your reach."

She slapped him on his arm, making him laugh. "Well fuck you too!" She hissed at him, even though she wasn't truly angry at him. It was just their way of interacting, dropping a nasty remark or two at each other's expense. Trunks found that he could manage being around her as long as he could veil his actual feelings towards her in such a manner.

There was a knock on the door. Marron reared her head like a dog following a tennis ball flying across a field. Trunks lifted his off the table just enough to see the new kid walk into the room. For a second there was nothing but total silence. Then there was the sound of Marron drawing in her breath.

Trunks had no idea what was up with him, but for the second time in a week he found himself appreciating a guy for his looks. Goten was tall and slender, though not too broad at the shoulders. Though the way he shuffled to the front of the class implied nervosity, he carried himself in a way that Trunks admired. Like he knew perfectly well who he was and he had no intention of covering it up for the sake of being likeable.

Goten was wearing very casual clothing, simple jeans and the name of a band that Trunks never heard of before spelled across his chest. The Gaslight Anthem. Trunks made a mental note to check them out.

Mrs. Clearwater hurried over to her new student, extending a hand which Goten shook. "Hello, dear!" She cooed in manner that was the perfect opposite of how she acted in front of a packed classroom. "My name is Mrs. Clearwater. I will be your physics teacher for the year, as well as your mentor. How nice to finally meet you!"

Goten seemed unsure how to react to this sudden enthusiasm, but that was when Mrs. Clearwater showed just how great of a teacher she could be. "But enough about me, how about you introduce yourself to your new classmates and get seated?"

Goten nodded his agreement and turned towards the twenty-something faces staring at him in utter curiosity. The sight of them seemed to scramble his nerves even more, judging by the goofy grin that cracked his lips and the hand that went up to muss the locks in his neck.

"God, he's so cute," Marron breathed next to Trunks. "It's almost unfair."

Two deep brown eyes gazed over every face looking back at him, and then Goten began to speak. His voice was much deeper that Trunks had anticipated, like a man who had smoked thirty years of his life away.

"Sooo... My name is Goten Son," Goten said. "I moved to South City about two weeks ago. My mom thought it would be a good idea to get me into a regular school, 'cause I've been studying at home until now. We originally came from Mt. Paozu, so the city is a bit getting used to, but I think I'll manage."

"And what are some of your hobbies, Goten?" Mrs. Clearwater probed for more information. "There's bound to be some people with common interests in this class, so maybe it'll help you make friends."

"Eh... Well I love to make music. I play guitar and I like to believe I have a decent singing voice. I enjoy reading and writing stories. Oh, and I play a lot of video games. I'm pretty average, I guess."

"Of course not, dear," Clearwater told him. "Nobody is average. That's just something we tell ourselves to hold us back. Now please have a seat. The spot next to Neve is still open, I see."

Marron gave an audible groan, disappointed that the new, hot boy would not be sitting near her, which meant that she couldn't harass him for any more information. Trunks didn't really care. They were going to invite him for lunch anyway, so there was plenty of time to get to know the guy. Besides, Goten was in his class, so he would learn enough about him as it was.

Now if only Marron would shut the hell up about how cute he was.

* * *

Goten walked through the doors of the wardrobe and into the sunlight. He gave a bit of weary sigh. It was only noon and he was already tired. Today had been a day of many impressions and lots of things to take in. A lot of people had wanted to chat him up and ask him everything there was to know about him. He didn't mind, not at all. It was nice to see that people were genuinely interested in who he was as a person. Still, it was tiresome to talk about yourself so much. This had resulted in him not paying attention during math class, where he had opted to scribble some random sentences and excerpts for his story instead.

Of all the people that he had met so far, Neve was the nicest. Neve was a very short, but broad shouldered boy of seventeen years old. Despite the crew cut and camo pants he wore, Neve had no desire to join the army. He had confided in Goten that he did so because his father would've liked it. The man had passed away more than five years ago, but he had left an impression on his son that could never be erased. Turned out he had thrown himself onto a grenade to save his comrades. This was why Neve did anything he could to preserve his memory, a course of action that Goten could fully stand behind.

Other than Neve there were a few people that Goten liked as well. There was Sady, a girl with hair as white as snow. She was a quirky one, but Goten saw no harm in it. She had spent a large amount of P.E. class tumbling in the grass with her feet in her hands, rather than partaking in the activity that the teacher had set up for them. It had amused Goten long enough to forget that he was supposed to physically strain himself, something that he despised with a passion.

Another person that he liked well enough was Tito. Tito was everything that his name implied. He was a surfer dude, despite the fact that they were at least a hundred and fifty miles away from the sea. He acted laid back and talked as if he had smoked half of his grandmother's vegetable garden. He probably had.

All in all it hadn't been too bad of a first day so far. Goten could see himself going to school here for the rest of his academic career. The teachers were nice to him, the students seemed interested, nothing to complain about. Well, there was one thing. Music class wasn't until Friday. Neve had informed him that South City High had a music room that could make even the largest rockstar in the world see green with jealousy. His fingers were twitching just at the thought of plugging Banshee into a ten thousand zeni amplifier. Oh, how she would sing.

He would have to soldier his way through the rest of the week first, though, even if it did not seem all that challenging. For now his greatest obstacle was finding a proper place to sit and enjoy his lunch. Most of the grassy fields around the school were packed with students. Goten had no desire to mingle right now, since he would be doing a lot of that the coming days.

Yet relief washed over him when he heard a voice calling to him from a few yards away. "Goten, over here!"

He turned around and spotted the girl waving at him. He remembered seeing her in his physics class, so stepping up to her wasn't as awkward as he dreaded it to be. A boy was sitting beside her underneath the tree. He was quite the eye-catcher, Goten mused. Decent looking and just the right amount of 'I-don't-care' in his expression. That wasn't the unusual thing about him, though. What stood out the most was the mop of lilac hair on his head. Goten had seen pink hair, white hair, blue hair, even green hair. But never purple. Truth to be told, this had haunted him for more than half of physics.

He walked over to the duo and greeted them with a smile. "Hey!" He said, dropping his bag to the grass and planting his ass down as well.

"Hey!" The girl chimed in reply. She was a young, blonde thing, maybe a year younger than he was. She was a typical pretty girl. "My name's Marron!" She squeaked.

"I'm Goten," he replied, even though she already knew that. "Thanks for inviting me to sit with you guys, really appreciate it."

"No worries," Marron told him. "We thought you could do with some level-headed people. Also, if you don't know who this is, have a guess." She gestured towards the boy with the funny hair colour. He looked up at Goten, an expression in his face that said that the other boy shouldn't have too much trouble guessing who he was. And it was _that_ easy.

"Trunks Briefs, right?" Goten answered. Marron's mouth fell open and Trunks rolled his eyes in an 'I-told-you-so' manner.

"I see that my name exceeds me," Trunks said, leaning his chin into an open palm. He began plucking blades of grass from the soil, letting them drift in the wind.

"No, not really," Goten replied. "It's just that you have your mother's eyes."

Trunks let a clump of dirt fall onto his pants, completely forgetting it and not minding the stains. "So you _are_ Gohan's brother."

Goten nodded. "Guilty as charged. Gohan invited me and my Mom to take a tour around Capsule Corps, so I already met Bulma. Like I said, you have her eyes, so it wasn't that hard to recognize you."

Trunks sighed, but smiled nonetheless. "Better than nothing, I suppose." He patted the dirt from his jeans. "Are you a brainiac like your brother or what?"

Goten laughed and shook his head. "Far from it. I couldn't figure out two plus two with a calculator. Gohan's the smart one. I'm the one with the pretty voice and the tender heart."

"Oh thank god," Trunks said. "We've had Gohan over for dinner a few times and it's astounding how much someone can talk about nanotechnology, or whatever him and my mom are working on these days. Is he like that with you too?"

"Not at all," Goten replied. "But our mom weasels it out of him whenever she can. She'll start praising him into the freaking heavens over it too, and he can't handle that. He goes all red in the face and starts mumbling. It's the funniest thing."

"Oh, I have to come and see that one day. Maybe he's not as uptight as I thought he was."

"Sooooooo..." Marron wedged her way back into the conversation. "I heard you moved here from the mountains. Must be big difference to live in such a giant city all of sudden."

Goten pulled his bag in closer and retrieved the mushed up sandwiches that he had abused in his anger earlier that morning. "You can say that again. It's been easier than I thought, though. Gohan helped me and my mom find a great house not too far away from here. It's only ten minutes by bus, so getting to school is easy enough. I have all my stuff unpacked already, so basically all I have to do now is not get lost on the way to the supermarket."

Trunks sniggered, but Marron wasn't done with her questions. What she asked next reminded Goten of his mother, in particular her lack of tact. "Why didn't your dad come with you, though?"

Goten noticed the glare that Trunks sent her way and it actually made him laugh. Sure, the answer to her question was anything but funny, but he couldn't help but appreciate the strange symbioses between the two. With a bit of luck he could at the very least be their third wheel.

"No, he didn't," Goten said, his smile faltering a bit. "Dad passed away two and a half years ago."

"Oh my god, Goten, I'm so sorry," Marron jumped up, waving her hands frantically, the expression on her face ridden with guilt. "I didn't know, I.. sorry."

"It's alright," Goten said, his smile returning to him. "There was no way for you to know. Besides, I've learned to live with it by now, so it's not that big of a deal anymore."

"Better get used to her asking questions out of the blue like that," Trunks chipped in. He retrieved a packet of cigarettes and lit one, filling the air with a scent that made Goten want to retch. Upon seeing him crinkle his nose, Trunks mouthed a silent apology, followed by a question of his own. "What did he die of, if you don't mind me asking."

Goten could not resist. Even his father's passing couldn't overshadow the glory of this opportunity. He steeled his face, his eyebrows pressing down into a frown he didn't even know he had in him. And just when Trunks gave him a quizzical look, he stared him dead in the eye and replied "Lung cancer."

Trunks's eyes about tripled in size, wandering towards the death stick between his fingers and back to Goten. Marron just kept silent, regarding the whole exchange with something that resembled curiosity.

"A-Are you serious?" Trunks asked, every shred of zen gone from his voice.

Goten laughed so hard that he felt he might tear something. "Yeah, I am. I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to scare you shitless is all."

Trunks breathed out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god, for a minute I thought you were trying to jinx me."

"Who says he isn't," Marron said in a teasing manner. :"Anyway, Goten, let's move away from the depressing talk. So you play guitar, huh. Jasper is gonna love hearing that. I bet the two of you will get along just great."

"Jasper?" Goten questioned.

"Yeah, he's in 3B," Trunks answered. "Although you'll probably be in the same music class as him. He's a drummer and he's been raving about you coming here for a while now. Don't think too much of it, but he might try to hit on you."

"He's been nagging our heads off about getting himself a guitarist boyfriend," Marron explained.

This made Goten smirk. "Thanks for the heads up, I'll make sure I won't let him get too close, or else I'll mace him."

The three of them laughed in unison.

Lunch came to an end for too soon for Goten's liking. He sent a silent thank you to up above that he was in the same class as Trunks was. It was surprising how easy it had been to get a conversation going with the guy, and he hoped that there were plenty more to come. And he was pining for Friday to come around the bend already, because damn it, he wanted to let Banshee sing the blues like she never had before.

* * *

The first week of school went by pretty damn fast in hindsight. After the fatigue of the first day had passed the rest of them flew by before Goten could even blink. Not that he minded, because that meant that Friday afternoon was there even faster.

So at noon he collected his things a little earlier than normal, saying his quick goodbye to Marron and Trunks. He had spent every lunch break so far with the duo and he had enjoyed every minute of them. He would sit next to Trunks during classes as well, or otherwise next to Neve. He was actually making friends.

The teachers seemed to like him as well. Much to his luck he had gotten a creative writing assignment during his first English class. His teacher, Ms. Erickson, had been blown away by his hand-in. He had received full marks for his first graded task, which made him glow with pride. Sure enough, there was also that particular one who seemed to despise him from the minute he had first laid eyes on Goten. Mr. Verma was of the older generation of instructors. Goten, who was not yet fully familiar with the school's layout, had been tardy for about thirty seconds. Verma had still let him in, but had spent the rest of the hour making snide remarks under his breath. This had led Goten to believe that the man had a fifty foot stick up his ass.

He had no trouble finding the music room. This because he had sought it out several times before, even if only to gaze in through the window next to the door. The place was littered with every piece of musical equipment that Goten could possibly dream of. Amps, drum kits, keyboards. A whole arsenal of guitars, but none of them as pretty as Banshee, of course.

He had brought his girl along to school today, cause he'd be damned if he didn't give her any chance to shine. It had been a while since he had transported her -the moving of houses aside- and the weight of her on his shoulders was like greeting an old friend.

Goten was early to class by a rather wide margin. It would still be at least another twenty minutes before class would start, but he couldn't contain his excitement. Much to his surprise he found the door to be open. It seemed kind of irresponsible to leave this much expensive gear unguarded, but he forgot all about that when he walked inside. Seeing everything around him took his breath away.

He glanced around for a bit, seeking out the perfect amplifier to hook his baby up. He spotted it in the corner of the room, tucked away behind so much more equipment. He'd call it blasphemy, had there been anyone around to hear it.

It was a Fender Bassman. He had read about them a million times over, and he had even tried one out in the tiny as hell music store at the foot of Mt. Paozu. She was a thing of beauty and she would fit perfectly with Banshee. Yes, he was also calling it a 'she' now, sue him if you didn't like it. The Fender was originally intended as an amplifier for bass guitars, but many players around the globe had adopted it due to the delightful and warm sound that it produced. One should never, ever try to play anything but the blues on a Bassman. Anything else was sacrilegious.

Banshee let out a deep hum when he plugged her into the Bassman. Hearing it made him heart soar like it hadn't done in years. _Hang on, Darling_ , he thought, _prepare yourself for the ultimate thrill_.

Slowly, he began to strum her chords. The sound that erupted from the Fender was like a musical orgasm. God, this was amazing. Before he knew it he was picking up the pace, his hand gliding up and down Banshee's neck like they were lovers that had been apart for a year. She sang beautifully. Her song was so much more uplifting that it had been in a long while too. No more cries of solitude, but instead an anthem of better days to come.

As always he had no particular recollection of how long he had been playing her. He only came to when a voice behind him dragged him back to reality.

"Holy crap, you're amazing."

Goten whirled around and saw a boy standing only a few feet away from him. In seconds he felt the blood rushing to his cheeks at the compliment. The boy was watching him with minty green eyes, a tumble of rust-coloured hair falling into his face. He brushed the curls aside and made Goten grow even redder.

"T-Thanks," Goten muttered, plucking a lone string and letting the sound bounce through the room. "I try."

The boy laughed and walked up to him. "I don't think you are, and you have no idea how jealous that makes me."

"Okay, how did you know?" Goten asked, a smirk curling his lips.

"Simple," came the reply. "If you can play like that with your eyes closed, I can't imagine what you'll pull off with them open."

"Fine, fine, busted," Goten laughed. "But still, I don't think I'm all that fantastic, seriously. Maybe it's just a musician thing."

"It definitely is," the boy agreed. "I can't tell you how many times I cursed myself out 'cause my timing is off, while everyone keeps telling me that I'm as tight as can be."

"A drummer, huh?" Goten lifted an eyebrow. "I guess that makes you Jasper."

"Damn straight," Jasper replied. "And I take it that you're Goten."

"Right on the money."

"Nice to meet you," Jasper said, shaking Goten's hand. His eyes lingered on Banshee for a while. "I was already hoping you would play the blues. Nowadays everyone want to play simple three-chord pop rock. It's kind of sad."

"Not me," Goten answered. "I'd rather be found dead than play anything that simple."

"Good to hear, great even," Jasper told him. "Say, do you want to try out for my band sometime? We need another guitarist and I'm pretty sure you're overqualified."

"Overqualified?" Goten began to laugh. "Well why the hell not, I always wanted to play in a band anyways. When can I audition?"

"To be honest I don't think you have to anymore, but I suppose that the guys in the band need some convincing too. They tend to not believe me so much anymore after when I promised them we'd be opening for the Gaslight Anthem before Christmas. They never forgave me for that."

Goten laughed even more now. "Awesome, you're a fan too, huh? I listen to them almost religiously."

"Oh, totally. National Anthem is my National Anthem."

"Really? You seem more like a Keepsake kind of guy to me."

"I like that one too," Jasper smiled. His eyes fell on Banshee once more. "Amazing piece of equipment you got there," he said, pointing at her. "Is she a Fender?"

"Nope," Goten said. "She's a Gibson in heart and soul."

"She sounds more like a Fender."

"I know," Goten said, chuckling. "But that's the amp talking."

Jasper rolled a pair of glorious green eyes. "Just take the compliment already."

"Ugh, fine," Goten said, feigning annoyance.

Jasper kept silent for a second or two, then asked something that scared the hell out of Goten.

"Would you mind if I played her for a bit?"

If Banshee hadn't been strapped across his shoulder, Goten would've dropped her straight to the ground. Jasper picked up on this. "I guess that's a 'no'," he said. "I get it, though, our instruments are our children after all."

Goten let out a little sigh and then smiled. "No, it's not that. I'm just surprised that you know it's a she."

Jasper shrugged. "She looks like a she, and she sure wails like one."

That had Goten laughing so hard that he almost doubled over. "Well you're not wrong."

"So does that mean I can fiddle with her strings?" Jasper gave him the puppy dog eyes. "Pretty please?"

Dammit, this guy was cute. He suddenly recalled Trunks's comment about how Jasper might try to flirt with him. Goten wasn't getting any vibes like that, but hell, Jasper knew how to convince a guy.

"Okay, why not," Goten eventually answered. "But be really, really careful, because if you hurt her I will sodomize you with the nearest drumstick I can find."

Jasper sniggered and took Banshee from his hands. He slipped her strap over his shoulder and accepted the guitar pick that Goten handed to him. He stood there for a while, as if he wasn't sure what he was doing, and then let the pick slide over the strings. Never in her life had Banshee sounded so horrible.

Jasper must've seen him scrunch his nose. " Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that I can't play guitar for shit," he said, laughing at his own expense.

"You sure as hell can't," Goten said, an amused smile playing his lips.

"Maybe you can help me."

Goten had to blink twice at that. "Pardon?"

"I was asking you to help me," Jasper repeated. "If you could just show me how to properly pick a chord or something, you would be a great help."

"O...kay," Goten said, not really sure how to react. "Well If you want to play a D-chord, just put your index finger... there," he explained, pointing to the correct place. "And then your middle finger goes there, and your ring finger over there."

Jasper did as he was told, but failed miserably. When he gave Banshee another strum she sounded like she was being choked. Goten couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, try again," he said. "You're getting there."

"See, this is why I asked you to help. I suck at this. I'm much better off as a drummer." Jasper clacked his tongue, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I don't suppose you can help me set my hand in the right position?"

Goten wasn't sure if Jasper had heard, but in his own mind the sound that left his throat resembled that of a beached whale. Oh sweet lord, this boy _was_ flirting with him. And Goten was letting him do it. Even more so, he was encouraging it. And, if he was being honest, he was enjoying it as well.

"Y-Yeah, sure," Goten stepped in behind Jasper, their shoulders bumping together as he slid his hand along Banshee's neck. He was a little hesitant to touch Jasper's, but after a few seconds he raked up the courage and did it anyway, praying to whatever was above that Jasper wouldn't make half a turn and see the colour of his face. Never had he been such a brilliant shade of red. Shit, this guy was gorgeous, from the little freckles in his neck to the flowery scent of his hair.

Goten gave a sharp but silent exhale. "See, you just take your hand and curve it against her neck like this, with your palm a little bit cupped." He guided the warm hand a little farther up the guitar's neck. "Then you take your fingers and you make sure that they're on the strings in a ninety degree angle. If you don't she'll sound like she's being strangled."

"Okay, so like this?"

Goten nodded. "Uh-huh. Now, yes, like that. And then you can strum. Try it."

Jasper let the pick glide over her strings for the third time, ands that was the charm. While it was still a long way from playing the actual blues, the first step had been taken.

"Fucking awesome!" Jasper laughed out loud. "Thanks a lot, dude! Now all I need to do is practice for a hundred years more, and then I'll be as good as you!" He startled the life out of Goten by turning around and dragging him into a crushing hug.

Goten was spending an abnormal amount of time thanking deities today, because they were responsible for Jasper missing his cheeks shifting tones. He ran about a million defense mechanisms through his head, finding that humour would be the best way to deal with his embarrassment.

"Keep on dreaming, kiddo," he said, making Jasper laugh even harder.

Jasper released the hug and stepped backwards. "Say, I'm gonna head to the bathroom real quick. Class should start any minute now, so maybe you best find a spot. It's a pretty crowded class." And with that he marched off, leaving Goten with some room to fan the heat away.

Fucking hell. He was only at school for a week and he had already developed a crush. Great, just great. The mere idea terrified him. Not because he was scared of admitting to his feelings. The butterflies in his stomach were a dead giveaway in that regard. Nor was it that he feared his feelings not being reciprocated, because he'd eat his shoe if Jasper hadn't been flirting with him just now.

No, if there was one thing that made him fear for his precious life, it was that he would have to tell his mother that he wouldn't be supplying her with any grandchildren. The thought alone was enough to weaken his bladder.

Chi-Chi Son was one hell of a scary woman, especially when she was denied something. Maybe he should hide Banshee away for a little while, or else Jasper wouldn't be the only one to be receive a threat of musical sodomy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Yay! Chapter 4 is here :D!**

 **This one is a little shorter than the ones before it (but still decently sized), but that's only because I wanted to get it out so fast. It doesn't take away from the quality though, so no worries there :).**

 **Now please read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

"Trunks, could you please come help me downstairs for a bit?"

"Can't Baba or Dad do it?"

"No, they can't, and it wouldn't hurt you to help around the house every once in a while," his mother shouted from down the stairs. It was a miracle that her voice carried this far, but then again, she was Bulma. If she wanted to be heard, she'd make herself heard.

Trunks rolled his eyes and set his controller aside. He shot a 'thank you' to up above, for he had just finished another round of BlasterSmash, so it wasn't like she was really interrupting him.

"Trunks, will you hurry up already!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he shouted back. It took him a little while, but after some searching he managed to locate his mother in the kitchen, standing in front of the sink and stirring what seemed to be shredded meat for the spaghetti sauce to come. His little sister Bulla was sitting on the countertop and was talking animately about her day of school.

"And Teach said that I had the best drawing she had ever seen!" She was just rounding off what was, Trunks suspected, one of the many, many stories she had already regaled to their mother. Trunks knew only of one person who could talk that much in such little time, but the only difference was that Marron annoyed him when she did. But not Bulla, god no. He'd never admit it to anyone but his family, but Bulla was his little princess.

"Trunks!" Bulla shouted as soon as she laid eyes on him. This was how it always went. Bulla always had a very busy routine on Saturday morning, one that involved dancing lessons, riding horses and a whole lot of those things that girls seemed to enjoy doing. Trunks couldn't wrap his head around her even if he tried, but hey, whatever made her happy.

"Heya Princess," Trunks said, breaking into a smile as she jumped off the countertop and into his arms. She was wearing one of her frilly dresses today, the fabric a baby blue and just thin enough for the current weather. She wrapped two short arms around her neck and nuzzled her head there, acting as if she hadn't seen him in a year. Of course, she was still very young, so it might as well have been that long to her.

"How was your day?" Trunks asked, pulling his eyebrows up so far that they were in danger of getting lost in his hair.

Bulla gave a giggle and smooched him on the cheek, making his insides melt. "It was great!" she cooed. "Miss Tina from dancing showed me how to do a pier-who-wet! I can do them now too! Wanna see?"

Trunks laughed, but shook his head. "Another time, okay? I think Mommy wants me to help her cook and I don't think she'd like it if you started dancing in the middle of the kitchen."

Bulla glanced warily at her mother, who only nodded in confirmation of Trunks's statement.

"Okay then," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "Can I sit on the counter again?"

"Sure you can, Princess," Trunks replied, hoisting her back onto the granite plate. He then turned to Bulma. "Unions?"

"Unions," his mother repeated.

Bulma had been doing this for as long as Trunks had been able to hold a knife steady. She hated chopping them herself. She would always complain how they made her eyes water and god forbid that her mascara became runny. Trunks decided not point out how she would sometimes look like a homeless person after a night in the laboratory. Instead he took a cutting board and a knife and got to work.

For a few minutes there weren't any sounds in the kitchen apart from Trunks's chopping and Bulma softly humming a tune. Trunks enjoyed this, as he did with all silences. But Bulma decided to break it after stepping away from the counter and lighting a cigarette.

"So how's the new kid?" She asked, leaning a hand on her hip. "I just remembered that I forgot to ask."

"Oh, he's great, actually," Trunks said, a smile breaking out. "And don't tell me that surprises you, you've met him yourself."

Bulma sniggered and pulled from her cigarette. "Yeah, I did. He's a nice kid, just like his brother."

"Yeah, only he's not as much of a brainiac as Gohan is," Trunks pointed out. "He says he's more into playing guitar and whatnot."

"Any chance I can get to see him sometime soon?" Bulma asked, very obviously doing her best to sound casual.

Trunks smirked at her. Sure enough, she was once again pushing him to try and get social life. A year ago he would've brushed the comment off, saying that he didn't really need the company. He would've said the same a month ago. But with everything that had happened as of late, with Goten arriving at school, and BansheeBlues appearing on the radar out of nowhere, Trunks was actually inclined to do just what his mother was proposing. Believe it or not, but he actually enjoyed having friends.

"Yeah, maybe," came his answer. "It doesn't sound like too bad of an idea. Plus he already knows you, so it won't be too awkward to introduce you."

"What?!" Bulma asked, raising her voice in mocked irritation. "Why have I _ever_ tried to embarrass you?"

"When haven't you?" Trunks quipped. "I'm pretty sure you love nothing more than seeing me sweat."

"Well I can't deny that," Bulma said.

"Trunks?" Bulla piped up all of a sudden. "Who is 'the new kid'?"

"Oh, haven't I told you?" he said, honestly surprised. "Well there's a new boy in my class now. Do you remember Gohan?"

Bulla screwed up her whole face in thought, making Trunks laugh. She was likely trying to remember one of the nights when they had Gohan over for dinner.

"You mean Mommy's assistant?"

"That's the one," Trunks confirmed. "Well, Gohan had a brother and he is in my class now. His name is Goten."

"Oh, cool!" Bulla said, her eyes sparkling. "Mommy's right, you know. You should bring him here sometimes. I bet he's loads of fun!"

Trunks smiled at her. "You know what, just for you, I'm going to ask him to come here next weekend, how's that?"

Her face lit up as though she had just received the greatest news in the world. "Yes! That's great! Can I play with him too?"

"But of course. Like I would ever ignore my Princess."

Bulla giggled at him and reached her arms out, a nonverbal sign that she craved more affection. Trunks hugged her back and she kissed him on the cheek. Then she dropped herself down from the countertop and sped off into another part of the house without saying another word.

Bulma watched her go with a sparkle of longing in her eyes. "You know, if it weren't for your dad, you'd have had at least three brothers and or sisters."

That made Trunks laugh. "Yeah, too bad Dad almost faints at the thought of having another baby. I can still remember how he was messed up for like two weeks when you told him you were having Bulla."

Bulma laughed along with him. "True, he was even muttering in his sleep about where it had all gone wrong. But still, we both know he loves her dearly."

The silence returned. Trunks found himself drifting off in thought. When a particular one soared through his head he almost sliced off a finger in his hurry to convey it to his mother.

"Say Mom, I kind of have a question," Trunks began, making sure to heed caution. "So, you know how I'm turning eighteen next month, right?"

A bemused smile was playing his mother's lips as though she knew what was coming.

"I was kind of somewhat thinking that it would be pretty cool to throw a party," he said, eyeing her carefully. "I mean, only if you and Dad agree with it, of course."

Bulma was such a tease sometimes. She acted as though she was very much lost in thought, contemplating his idea and trying to find the right holes to poke in it. Just when Trunks felt that a drumroll was in order, she beamed at him.

"Sure you can, sweetie!" she almost shouted. "I think that's a wonderful idea! And I don't care what that father of yours thinks. It's about time that he stood behind his son's decision to become a little more social. Come to think of it, it wouldn't hurt for him to do the same. You know how much of a grouch he can be sometimes."

Trunks felt relief washing over him. His mother could have named a million reasons not to let him throw a party. Their house was loaded with fragile valuables, for one. He still had parents and a little sister to consider, secondly. But she had said it was okay. Right that instant Trunks began to plan out the evening.

"I take it that you will want to have it on the twenty-eighth?" Bulma asked. "It's on a Sunday, but I can arrange for your guests to sleep over if you'd like. That way you can have your party on your actual birthday!" She seemed to be even more excited about his party than he was.

"Sounds like a plan," Trunks agreed. "Now..." he had to bring the next part tactfully. "Could we, by any chance, get some... refreshments?"

Bulma's eyebrows lowered as she turned to him. "What do you mean, 'refreshments'?"

Trunks winced. He'd expected to get a response like this. "I mean could we drink? As in drinking alcohol?"

The frown did not disappear from her face, but at least she appeared to be contemplating it. Trunks held his fingers crossed behind his back as he waited for her to reply.

"Now if I say yes," she said, holding up a finger to silence him, for he was about to burst into a fit of giddy giggles. "Can you promise me some things?"

"Like?"

"Well for one," she started, beginning to count on her fingers. "I want you to promise me that you'll take full responsibility if someone gets broken."

"Consider it done."

"Or if someone gets sick?"

"No problem."

"And if someone vomits all over my expensive carpet?"

Trunks had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course."

"Okay," Bulma said. "And finally, can you promise me, on your mother's grave, that you will not let anyone drink if their parents won't allow it?"

"Eh, sure," Trunks said, finding nothing to object against.

"Well then, I guess it's okay for you kids to have a few drinks," Bulma said. "But, you're buying it yourself. I can get you anything else, but if you want to get shitfaced you'll do it on your own wallet."

"Fair enough," Trunks agreed.

"Now hand me those unions so I can put them in with the rest."

Ten minutes later Trunks was back in his bedroom, feeling giddy for the first time in a long while. His mother had relented to his propositions much easier than he had expected her too and that only added to the feeling of joy. Already his mind was racing; who should he invite? What kind of drinks should he buy? What kind of music would he pick?

It was even a little bit exhausting, trying to come up with all of it. Good thing he still had a month to figure all of it out. With that comforting thought in the back of his mind, Trunks reactivated his controller and began to play once more.

Within minutes he was so deep in the game that the reality around him had stopped existing. Captain Underpants was working his way across the Vegetan terrain, this time not running across the plains, but rather hiding in the nook of an old and destroyed building.

The game was Search and Destroy. The objective was simple enough, namely locate the enemy superweapon and destroy it before they destroy yours. Of course there were also the Tuffles who would stand in his way, but Captain Underpants was hardly concerned about them. When it was just him he would wade through the enemies as easily as a slicing through butter. It was his companions that he worried about. He wasn't sure how apt they would be in defending their own weapon.

Captain Underpants moved away from behind the wall, coming face to face with a Tuffle the second he did so. Before the enemy could even trim his crosshair on him, he had been blown to smithereens by the grenade he did not see landing at his feet. The Captain dashed forward and went right, knowing the enemy camp to be there. Though he could not see inside it, a red bar appeared in the screen, indicating the amount of damage still to be done to the weapon of the Tuffles.

He tossed another grenade and it struck true, decimating half of the weapon's health bar in one go. He heard groans of pain also, indicating that he had managed to take some Tuffles down as well. Captain Underpants was about to round the corner when something snapped the real life player out of his focus. A little text box appeared in the bottom of his screen.

 _BansheeBlues is now online._

Trunks's heart skipped a beat the way it always did when that screen name flashed before him. He did not hesitate to open the message function and start typing.

 _Hey dude, good 2 see ya back._

BansheeBlues replied almost instantly, as was common between them.

 _Yeah man, sorry that I haven't been around a lot the past few days. It's been kind of busy on my end._

Ah well, those things could happen. Trunks wasn't going to act like it wasn't a bit of a disappointment to see his only online friend offline for two days in a row, but all would be forgiven the second they started to blast Tuffles to hell as a team.

 _No worries, I get it. School?_

BansheeBlues was typing and Trunks found himself waiting with bated breath.

 _Among others, yes. Thank goodness it's a lot better than I expected._

Trunks sighed. Well at least there was someone in the world right now enjoying his education.

 _N what else? Relationship issues with ur guitar?_

 _Hahaha, no, not at all. It's never been better, actually. No, just getting used to it all. That and my mother insists on dragging my ass through the city fourteen times a week, so I can get to know the place._

Oh wow, that explained things. BansheeBlues had already hinted before that his mother could be somewhat overbearing, but that was simply insane.

 _Oooh, rough. Nyway, ready to blast?_

BansheeBlues was typing...

 _You know it. How long are you here for?_

Trunks was about to tell his friend that he had the entirety of the afternoon to play, but then he remembered that he should do something else as well. He knew that there were a good six or seven slices of dry bread lying around and he was intent on snagging them along. Making up his mind, he typed a reply.

 _Hour, hour n a half most. Im the one busy 2day._

 _Great! Let's get it on! Capture the Flag?_

And so another afternoon followed, full of cursing, yelling and stroking feathered behinds.

* * *

It was a grey sort of afternoon at the end of April and even though the sun did not stretch its luminous fingers across the rooftops and street corners, the temperature was high. Goten was boiling in his shirt by the time he arrived at Jasper's house, tugging at his collar and breathing hard.

"You forgot to tell me about the fifteen minute walk," he breathed, clutching the stitch in his side. He finally came to a halt by a row of houses, two squeezed together under each roof. A silver car stood sentry in the driveway that Jasper was now crossing. Goten sighed and followed.

"Oh, c'mon, it wasn't that bad." Jasper threw a look over his shoulder and cracked a grin at the sight of the flush in Goten's cheeks, of course making it a hundred times worse. Damn him and his pretty eyes. Damn him and his pretty everything. "Besides, at least it's not raining. Yet."

Goten glared up at the sky and the amassing clouds. They looked as if they might break within the hour. It made him grin; it was another excuse to phone his mom that he would be home late. She wanted to have him inside by five o'clock as always, but the clock was edging towards four already. And if he told her that he was at a friend's she was sure to let it slide. She had cooed at him for almost a week when he had told her that he hadn't had any trouble making friends.

"That's my Goten," she had said, her eyes shining at she stirred a pan of sauce absentmindedly. "I just knew that you would do great. Who can resist a handsome face like that?"

His eyes travelled to Jasper at the thought of the comment. Those minty green eyes had flashed through his mind the second his mother had let out her musings. It wasn't strange, considering how thinking of the guy tied a knot in his stomach and made him feel light as air. He had fallen for Jasper like a bag of bricks and time had only made that worse. Now, three weeks after his first week of school, Goten spent the majority of his time daydreaming about who he dubbed the 'Little Drummer Boy' in the privacy of his own thoughts. Pass the bucket, cause it's true.

Jasper's slender fingers wiggled a set of keys into the front door as Goten allowed his mind to roam. He would question himself a lot about Jasper's feelings towards him. The flirting had definitely become more frequent, he was sure of that. Goten had managed to convince Trunks to sit in the middle rows in the classrooms, where three tables stood bunched together in rows. That way he could sit next to Jasper without neglecting Trunks, although that proved harder than he at first thought possible.

Jasper would keep sliding him these little notes, questions about music or his writing or his personal life, the edges decorated with smiley faces and hearts. The first time he had seen this he had laughed out loud. When Jasper had frowned at him in confusion, he had laughed even harder before scribbling a reply.

 _Wow, you're really gay, aren't you?_

At this, Jasper had let out a loud huff and crossed his arms, pouting. It was childish, sure enough, but Goten saw it for what it was, an attempt to make him smile even more than he already did. And when it came to making him smile, Jasper was a fucking miracle worker.

Still, flirting wasn't everything. A part of Goten was pining for something more. Not necessarily a boyfriend, but just something physical. Even though Goten had admitted his own sexuality to himself well over two years ago, he hadn't exactly gotten around to playing the field. No, as far as experience went, all he had were the two guys he had kissed in his life, and one of them had been nothing more than a smooch on the lips, brought on by a game of spin the bottle at a birthday party of a girl who lived at the foot of Mt. Paozu. Of course he had backed away immediately, acting as if he had just been forced to lick a muddy boot, but he had thought about it for weeks after that, trying to make sense of the flutter he felt in his gut whenever the image arose.

For a minute he wondered what Jasper really wanted from him. Was this flirting thing just a game to him, a tactic to use in order to win his grand prize? Surely he wouldn't mind taking things up a notch, or else he wouldn't bat his lashes like that whenever they made eye contact, nor would he let the ghost of a smile faze over his lips. But did he consider Goten to be worthy of a relationship? Or was it just that he was searching for something physical?

No, that couldn't be, Goten reasoned. If that had been the case he would've made a move a lot sooner. Goten was permanently flustered with Jasper around, and the guy was bound to have noticed it by now. And besides, hadn't Marron and Trunks told him how Jasper kept going on about wanting a 'guitarist boyfriend'? Goten was pretty sure that he could check that box on his resumé in any case.

So instead of eating himself up in doubt, Goten pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. He would see how things played out over the next few weeks before worrying himself. That shouldn't be too hard, right? All he had to do was not jump Jasper when they were in the same room, or let him see what he had been scribbling along the lines of his notebook for the past three weeks. The latter was cringeworthy, actually. The mere implication was funny enough; he was gay, yes, but he still wasn't a fourteen-year-old girl, for crying out loud. And you would think that if you saw all the swirly letters, all of them spelling the same name over and over and over again.

"You comin'?"

Goten shook his head and realized that he had been staring off into nothingness for what could have been two seconds as well as an hour, his hollow gaze lingering on an exquisite patch filled with amaryllis flowers. Jasper was standing in the doorway, jingling his keys to indicate that he had managed to unlock the door. Goten muttered a quick apology and walked in behind Jasper.

The house was much like Goten had envisioned it. The hallway had been decorated in a fashion that seemed common around the globe, with photo frames lining the walls and an open spiral staircase to the right. The door the living room was open a crack and inside Goten could see a hideous, but very comfortable looking green and white couch. At once he felt comfortable with his surroundings.

Jasper shrugged off the jacket he had been wearing and hung it up, Goten following his example. He had to put Banshee away first though, making sure that there was no way that anyone could step on her case as he slid her underneath the coat rack. When she was safe and secure, Goten scanned some of the picture frames.

"Cute even as a kid, huh?" he said, stroking his chin with his index finger, acting to think hard. "Why are some people so lucky?"

Jasper joined him by his side and followed his gaze towards a photo of himself sitting on a plastic slide, the glare of sunlight obscuring most of the scene. Even so, it was hard to ignore the tumble of curls that he was, Goten figured, undoubtedly born with. Jasper couldn't have been older than four years old in the photo, but little had changed over thirteen years. A few of the childish curves had left his face, but other than that they were like two drops of water.

"Don't flatter me," Jasper replied, doing his best to steer Goten away. "Really, who wants to look at my childhood photos all day?"

"I can," Goten replied, but he was surprised to find someone saying it along with him. He looked to his side and saw a woman, now standing in the doorway that led to the living room. She had the same eyes as Jasper.

"Hello," the woman greeted, moving towards them and extending a hand. "Jasper texted me that he would bring someone along, you must be Goten."

Goten shook her hand and nodded. "Yup, that's me."

"Well I'm Lindsey, nice to meet you!" The natural cheer in her tone was something that her son seemed to have inherited also. "Jasper has been telling me all about you. He can't shut up about to be honest. So, you're new to South City High?"

"Yeah, I just started three weeks ago," Goten answered. "It's been some getting used to, I'll admit. I guess I'm a mountain boy at heart."

Lindsey waved his comment away. "Not to worry, not worry," she said, smiling. "Now from what I understand you are a musician like my son?"

Goten nodded and broke out into a smile as well. "Uh-huh! We just came back from rehearsing with his band. Or well, my audition, I guess."

"And I can assume it went well? Like I said, Jasper won't shut his trap about how fantastic you are, so I reckon it was a breeze."

"Mom, easy," Jasper said, clearly not at ease with the bluntness of his mother.

Goten didn't exactly mind. He liked straightforward people. "Oh, yeah, no trouble there. The guys accepted me into the band before I could play half a song."

"Oh, wow, then you really must be good," Lindsey said, her mouth gaping into an oval shape. "Maybe my little Jasper isn't full of it after all."

Goten laughed. "Oh, he's full of it, alright, but I suppose I _am_ pretty decent."

"Guys, really, I'm still here," Jasper tried to interject.

"So what are you boys up to now?" Lindsey asked. She began to dance on the balls of her feet, giving her the distinct impression of a teenage girl asking her crush what he might do over the weekend.

"Goten and I were gonna head upstairs to listen to some music," Jasper replied. "We have pretty much identical tastes in music, so I thought I'd show him my record collection."

Goten saw the corner of Lindsey's lips twitch up for a fraction of a second, as if she knew perfectly well that her son wasn't just going to show Goten some records. This raised questions with Goten once more. Did Jasper do this a lot, taking guys home with him under the pretense of listening to music? Did Lindsey know which team her son played for? And was she aware of his natural charm the way that Goten was? So far all the questions seemed to have 'yes' as their final answer.

"Right," Lindsey said, still trying hard to keep the smirk away. "Well I'll just leave you kids to your devices, I'll be making dinner. Goten, you are more than welcome to eat with us."

Goten smiled at her and nodded. "Sure thing, I'll shoot Mom a message that I won't be home for dinner and then it shouldn't be a problem."

"Great!" Lindsey clapped her hands together and beamed at him. "Dinner will be ready at six, so don't lose track of time, okay? I'm not calling for you to come downstairs, so it'll be on your own heads if your food gets cold."

And with that she left the hallway. A glance to Goten's side showed Jasper, who was looking at his shoes as if they held the secret of life itself.

"Heh, don't worry," Goten said. "Your mom is actually really cool."

"I know, I know," Jasper replied. "It's just that she's so overbearing, you know? I can't take someone home with me without having her cross examine them. She does it partly cause she's so overprotective, I think. She wants me to do good in life."

"Like there's anything wrong with that," Goten said. "My mom keeps pushing me to study as hard as I can, because she seems to be under this delusion that I would be a great scholar like my brother. We don't fight a whole lot, but when we do it's because she talks down on my dream of playing in a band." He trailed off for a second, resting a hand on Jasper's shoulder. "But as of today I am in a band and if she doesn't like it, that's her problem. I decide what I want to do with my life."

Jasper sighed. "I guess you're right. She can't help it either, it's just who she is." He exhaled again and composed himself a little better, then made a grand gesture towards the spiral staircase. "After you, m'lady," he said, grinning.

Goten rolled his eyes, stealing a glance at Banshee and making sure she was safe, before trotting up the stairs. Finding Jasper's room wasn't exactly a challenge; he reckoned it was behind the door with a giant poster of a drum kit on it.

Jasper stepped into the room first and beckoned Goten inside. Seeing the interior made Goten draw in his breath. It contained everything that he wanted, but didn't have.

A record player was perched on a side table, the needle up and waiting to decode lines in vinyl to convert them to sound. The whole left wall had been taken up with shelves, rows and rows of records hiding the wallpaper from view. A kingsize bed stood in the far corner. A drumkit was placed in the exact centre of the room, though for the time being it doubled as a laundry hamper.

"Wow," Goten found himself saying as he perused the shelves, his thumb sliding past album covers. "This is insane." He pulled a random record from between the lines and examined it. On the front was an old photo of a black man, a Gibson sitting in his lap and a bony hand curved around the neck of the instrument.

Goten nodded in appreciation. "B.B. King, fuckin' awesome!"

"Thanks," Jasper said, dropping himself down on his bed to look at Goten. "But maybe you should have a look at the shelves on the right. You'll probably find a surprise in there."

Goten arched his eyebrows and cracked a bemused smile, then did as he was told. He pulled out a record at random. Thick, red and black letters spelled the name of a band that he had trouble reading at first, but after some squinting he managed to identify it as 'Thy Art Is Murder'. The cover portrayed what appeared to be a nun praying, which tied in to the title 'Holy War'.

"Heavy metal, really?" Goten asked, finding it rather funny. "Although I suppose I could have guessed."

"Guessed how?" Jasper asked, a puzzled frown scrunching his eyebrows together.

"Like anyone who listens to blues exclusively would wear shoes like that," Goten answered, pointing on the poison green trainers on Jasper's feet.

"Ah, betrayed by the footwear," Jasper said, clacking his tongue. "If only I hadn't thrown out those ugly loafers, maybe then I could stay incognito."

"Still, why though?" Goten queried, placing the album back where he got it from. "Like, I understand that people enjoy it, but you seemed like more of a chill-out guy to me."

"I am, mostly," Jasper said from his spot on the bed. "It's just that I like the change of pace sometimes, and the time schedules for the genre are a whole lot of fun, especially once you get to the more extreme side." He began to tap his hands on his legs to add power to the statement. "It's so energetic, you know, so alive. And I'll be sitting there, just smashing my cymbals like I'm pissed off at the world, waiting for the breakdown to build up, and when it finally hits, then..." He stopped his sentence short, but began to mimic beating down one a snare and cymbal, throwing his head around in circles.

Before Goten knew it he began to laugh. He tried to hold it back, but it wasn't any use. Within seconds he was doubled over from laughing, his hand clapped to his mouth and another pressed against his contorting midriff.

Jasper shifted on the bed to sit at the edge, looking up at Goten with those puppy dog eyes that doubled as his greatest weapon. "What's so funny?" he asked, batting his lashes and pouting his lower lip. All of this made Goten laugh even harder.

"N-Nothing, it's... it's just that..." Goten managed to wheeze in between his laughter. "You were trying to look cool windmilling so bad, but your hair refused to play along. It was just... bouncing there like a pogo stick."

"And you think that that's funny?" Jasper didn't lose the pout, playing the game along perfectly.

"Hysterical, actually."

"Well you better stop laughing now," Jasper fake-threatened.

Goten lifted one eyebrow and bit his lower lip. Two could play that game. He placed one of his hands on his hip and said, in a tone as airy as he could get it to be "And what if I don't? What're you gonna do about it?"

The smirk that stretched over Jasper's gums made Goten's gut twinge. It became hollow when those green eyes grinned along as well. Outside the first drops of rain were starting to fall, pattering against the window like the ticking of a rhythmless metronome.

"Just you watch," he said. Goten was about to inquire just what that was supposed to mean, but just before he could he felt a hand snag around his wrist. Jasper gave it a rough pull and Goten lost his footing. Before he knew it he had a mattress pushing into his back. Jasper was hovering over him, their faces not even three inches apart.

Goten was at a loss for words, not to mention air. He was holding in his breath like there was no tomorrow, almost afraid that if he sucked in a lungfull just now that this dream that was playing out in front of him would burst like a bubble. All that he could see were those deep green eyes that he saw whenever he closed his own, their sparkle somewhat subdued by the red-brown hair falling over it, Goten brushed the locks aside out of reflex, not really thinking about it.

Jasper's breath on his face was warm and overpowering, robbing him of his other senses. It was as if even the clock on the wall had stopped ticking. Time was nothing but a void as he laid there, his hand on Jasper's forehead and their eyes locked.

When Jasper's fingers brushed his jawline there was no stopping it anymore. Goten raised his head as Jasper lowered his, their lips meeting halfway..

Kissing Jasper was beyond anything that Goten could've dreamed of, which he had done a lot. He was surprised by how rough and chapped his lips were, yet how softly they pressed against his own, delivering a shy peck that betrayed some nervosity. Goten's hands travelled up without his consent, one going up to rake through Jasper's hair, the other fisting his shirt.

His mind exploded with the new sensations; the taste of Jasper's kiss was unlike anything he had ever experienced, a mixture of honey and mint and something much more rough and demanding. The scent that played his nostrils was that of a fading deodorant and sweat, but it still smelled like heaven.

Jasper's hand landed on his hip and the kiss deepened, both of them growing more forceful, inhibitions falling away at the seams. Goten raised a knee up and Jasper allowed himself to fall down, no longer supporting himself on his elbows.

Tongue soon found tongue, both eager to play. Goten shuddered when Jasper sucked on his, and Jasper's lips curled into a smirk of victory. His hair was a mess now, Goten's fingers gliding through it like a kite on a windy day. His shirt was wrinkled and sweat was beginning to form on his brow. He knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well.

Eventually they did have to breathe. They came apart, the thinnest trail of saliva still connecting them. Goten's cheeks were a flaming red, he knew, but it satisfied him to no end to see that Jasper had trouble keeping his composure as well. At least he wasn't coming up short.

They said nothing for a while, nothing but their ragged breaths between them. Lindsey could be heard in the distance, singing a song while she was cooking. The pitter-patter of rain was subduing, not to stop completely but to make room for a merciless downpour.

"So, that just happened," Goten said, a faint smile spreading across his features. Slowly he uncurled his hand from Jasper's shirt, sliding a hand across it to try and work out the creases.

"Yeah, it did," Jasper said, his eyes never wavering away from Goten's. "Do you..." He hesitated. "Do you want it to happen again?"

Goten couldn't help but smirk. Then he raised his heads up once more, catching Jasper's lips in a kiss and answering without even saying a single word.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello y'all! Chapter 5 is ready, so here ya have it! I hope you'll enjoy it, cause as of now I will start branching out the actual plot a lot more. Characters are taking shape and things are stirring up.**

 **If you can find it in you, please leave me with your thoughts. It would be highly appreciated.**

 **Now please read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

"What're you drawing?"

Trunks jerked up, completely caught unaware by the question coming from his left. Goten was staring at the doodles in the margins of his notebook, an eyebrow raised and a bemused smile curled around his lips.

The class around them was silent; most of the students were bent over their math exercises, some looking particularly strained and others giving off the impression that they might lay an egg at any given second. Trunks, however, was very good at the subject and had finished the coursework minutes ago. He had been scribbling ever since, hardly aware of what patterns he created with strokes of graphite.

"Nothing much," Trunks replied, shrugging his shoulders. "You done with the exercises?"

Goten shook his head. "No, but I'm a hopeless case anyway, so I figured I'd see what you're up to."

"And Jasper is doing what?"

To answer this, Goten jabbed his thumb to his right, where Jasper was staring at the formulas on his exercise sheet as though they were about to come to life and strangle him. Trunks bit back a chuckle and put his pencil down, blowing across his notebook to chase away the chippings.

"So, what're you drawing?" Goten asked again, eyebrows higher still.

Trunks rolled his eyes and turned his notebook so Goten could see. It really wasn't anything special. He had doodled some of the birds he had seen by the pond in the park. He had even added a bench where a faceless stranger sat, scattering lumps of bread. He heard Goten draw in his breath, as if Trunks had managed to create something amazing and mesmerizing, but he himself found the quality to be lacking. He had failed at capturing the proper contrasts, so the ducks' feathery wings seemed static rather than sleek and oily. Not to mention how much he had messed up the detailing on the duck in the corner, one as splendidly white as a set of teeth in a toothpaste commercial.

"Oh, wow," Goten said, looking impressed. "And you just whipped this up from nothing?"

"Eh, yeah," Trunks answered. He wasn't sure how he should deal with a compliment on something that he considered garbage. "But I can do better than that, if I try, I mean."

"I bet you can," Goten said, nodding appreciatively. "Hey, could I get you to draw the cover for my first novel?" he piped up, mirth sparkling in his eyes.

Trunks laughed. Sure, he could draw a little, but not that good. "Sure, but only if you write me a song I can use as an intro for my first anime series."

Goten slapped his hand on the table. "Consider it a deal."

"Quiet!" The teacher called them out from the back of the room. Goten started and dropped his head down, faking interest for the work at hand. Once it seemed that the coast was clear he whispered from the corner of his mouth.

"But seriously, you should do something with that. You'll make it big, I just know it."

"I dunno," Trunks said. "I've never given it much thought." Which he hadn't. He had always thought that he would succeed his parents in their endeavors at Capsule Corps. He had never questioned his future; it had always seemed obvious what he would end up doing in life. But Goten's question had triggered one for his own. Did he want to follow the trail laid out for him? To that he didn't have an answer.

"Well I'm not trying to force you or anything like that, I just thought you should know," Goten said, smiling.

Trunks was feeling somewhat overcome with this sudden attention. The only one who doted on him like that was his mother, and he would always try his best to flee whenever she got in one of her moods. But this was different. This was a compliment from, well, a friend. He'd never had one of those before. He could see the merit in them; so it wasn't that people enjoyed them without reason. Without his consent a little smile crept into his own features.

"So you want me to draw you a cover for a book, huh?" Trunks asked, toying his pencil between his fingers. "What's it about, anyway?"

"You can read it when it's finished. Until then my lips are sealed."

"That bad?"

"What? No!" Goten sputtered. "It's just that I'm the world's worst perfectionist. I want it to be spotless before I show it to anybody."

Trunks laughed. "I get it, I do. Just had to yank your chain there for a bit, I couldn't resist."

"Well screw you too," Goten said while bopping him on the shoulder, but he was also smiling nonetheless.

And then Trunks remembered the promise he had made Bulla that weekend. He turned to Goten with a degree of hesitancy; he hadn't asked anyone to come over to his house ever since he had gotten too old for play dates. At least not just to hang out. If he ever allowed anyone from his school over the threshold of his house, it was because there was some form of a project due.

So yeah, he was kind of nervous, but could you really blame him, the friendless rich kid with about as much social skills as a deaf-mute at a karaoke bar? Was it strange that he felt terrified at the prospect of basically asking someone 'Hey, I don't hate you as much as the rest, so let's be pals?'. Trunks himself thought that he had enough of an excuse to chicken out at this point. Too bad that he had promised. And he had promised _Bulla._ That was the definition of a binding contract.

"Hey, Goten," he asked, waiting for the other boy to look at him. He had to pause when dark orbs found his blue ones, finding it hard to concentrate with that stare fixed on him, as if Goten could see right through him. "I was wondering if you'd like to come hang out at my place sometime. You know, we could play some videogames, watch a movie, anything. Hell we can even go to the zoo. It's my fucking backyard for god's sakes."

Goten was silent for a second or two, those deep, probing eyes becoming vacant. He blinked twice as if he couldn't comprehend the words, and then his mouth fell open into a perfectly comical o-shape. Whatever he had been expecting, this wasn't it.

"S-Sure," Goten replied, stammering. "I mean, yeah, no problem, I'd love to."

"Great!" Trunks beamed. It was good to know that Goten was as flabbergasted as he was; for a second he had feared that the request would die on his tongue. "So how about you swing by next... Saturday? We'll have the whole day then. Oh, but wait, we do have to spend some time with my little sister, though."

Goten raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You have a little sister? What's she like?"

"She's like a tiny version of my mother. She loves everything pink and she has tea parties with her stuffed animals and she is the sassiest little shit I have ever gotten the pleasure of meeting."

Goten laughed. "Well I guess I'll survive it then. Your mother seemed pretty friendly, so as long as she doesn't take after you too much I'm sure I'll be alright."

Trunks sent a fake glare his way. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, you know..."

"No, I don't."

"Ah well, it's not important..."

"It is, just tell me!"

"QUIET!" The teacher yelled once more, silencing them both. Trunks gave up on trying to weasel anything more out of Goten and instead turned back to the drawing that now seemed a lot less awful. Sure, Beaker was still unrecognizable, but he hadn't yet sketched the crown of ruffled feathers in his neck, nor the gleam that made his red eyes shine like rubies.

Goten was right. Maybe he did have a knack for this. And maybe it was worth following his advice, even if just to try. The next few weeks he would start making the conscious decision to draw, no matter what it was. He'd read somewhere that in order for an artist to really flourish, they must find their subject. He would go looking for his. For now his muse seemed to live only through feathers and beaks, but who knew what else might cross his path?

For the first time ever, Trunks had no idea what the future held in store for him. And he loved it.

* * *

Sadie was having one of her more energetic days. Not that he minded, because she was a perfect counterbalance to his own laid back attitude, but damn woman, talk a little louder, will you?

Goten trotted behind the white-haired girl, only half-listening to whatever she was babbling about. Something to do with her parents deciding to refurbish the living room. Or about her dog dying. He still wasn't sure.

Neve seemed to be reading his thoughts. "A hundred zeni says I can make her shut up for a whole day."

Goten rolled his eyes and held out a hand. "Well then you might as well pay up now. She needs to talk more than she needs oxygen."

Neve chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It surprising to see how much a person can talk, huh?"

"It's also fun to see that between the two of you, you are the one with the hard on for gossip," Goten pointed out,

"The hell are you talking about?"

"Well, for starters, we're lagging back so Sadie can't hear what you have to say about her," Goten began to count on his fingers. "Not to mention how you filled me in on every single relationship this school has to offer." When Neve raised his eyebrows to show that he didn't understand, Goten scraped his throat and did the best impression of Neve that he could pull off. "'Miku has a thing for Kaito, but he doesn't know that. No, Kaito is in love with Sadie, but she has a boyfriend, so Kaito just screws around with Mel when he gets too frustrated. And ooooh, the rumours about Mel, darling, you wouldn't believe them. Word through the grapevine has it that she's fooling around with the son of the principal! Can you even believe it?'"

"Wow, hurtful," Neve said, laughing despite of himself. "And Mel _is_ the principal's son's fucktoy. That one is fact. The others are perfectly free and unfounded speculations, thank you very much."

"Because that makes it so much better."

"I... You... It's like... Shut up!" Neve sputtered, much to Goten's amusement. "And besides, I only filled you in because you seemed part of the crowd that loves to gossip. You know, one of the ladies."

"What's that supposed to imply?" Goten asked, pulling up an eyebrow.

"Well... You..." Neve seemed a little hesitant, even going as far as glancing over his shoulder to see if no one was eavesdropping on them. The hallway behind them was deserted. Upon making note of this, Neve lowered his voice to a whisper. "You are gay, aren't you?"

Goten didn't know whether to feel offended or impressed. The logical thing to think was that Neve was making a stereotype out of him, but he had known the guy for about a month now and Neve wasn't a person who just jumped to conclusions. He wouldn't make a statement like that without having the means to back it up.

"Now you're being hurtful, with your stereotypes and whatnot," Goten replied. "But curious, what gives you the idea?"

"Oh, c'mon mate, like I don't see the way you look at Jasper," Neve stated matter-of-factly. "You're like a puppy waiting for a treat."

"Oh god, is it that obvious?" Goten moaned. "Damn it." It had been his intention to keep a low profile when it came to his... whatever it was called he was doing with Jasper these days. Perhaps it was one of his own prejudices at play, but he did not want to be branded 'that gay kid' so soon after coming to school. He had wanted to start here with a blank slate, and getting caught staring at the pretty boy all day long was not the way to achieve it. Goten made a mental note to pay more attention to that.

"Hehe, it's alright mate, it is," Neve consoled his worries. "You're not being too blatant about it. I don't think anyone but me has noticed it so far."

Goten blurted it out before he got a chance to stop himself. "Well, think again."

Neve gave him a puzzled look, then stared at him for a long time. Goten could almost see the gears in his brains churning, trying to put two and two together. When the realisation hit him, his eyes went wide and he gave a loud gasp. It even made Goten laugh.

"You..." Neve breathed, pointing at Goten with a finger that shook in excitement. "And him... Are you... Did you..."

Goten held up a hand to silence Neve, who, thank the heavens, did as he was told. "Now try again. What did you want to ask me?"

Neve exhaled sharply in an attempt to pull himself together and contain the raging beast that was his love for everything gossip. "So, you and Jasper, you are like, a thing or something?"

Goten glanced to both sides before replying. "I'm not really sure, Neve. We definitely like each other, but it's nothing official yet. Maybe it never will be."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Neve got riled up again immediately. "You two are the perfect match. Both musicians, both nice people. You're both the object of affection of every girl in the school, but none of them can have you, you're just made for each other."

Goten felt himself growing red. "Well if that's the case, how come no girl has stepped up to me yet?" But that wasn't entirely true, now that he thought of it. There had been a few girls who were very, _very_ intent on stopping him on his way to wherever, just so they could strike up a little conversation. Goten would forget all about this, weren't it for the fact that Marron also belonged to this group. The blonde showed a level of interest in him that he had believed was only natural to her, that she subjected everyone she met to the kind of cross examinations that he had been enduring for a month now. But maybe this wasn't the case. Perhaps the way she blinked at him slowly when he talked, hanging from his every word, was a way for her to convey her desires. Just thinking about it made Goten feel uncomfortable.

Neve shrugged his shoulders. "Can't tell you for the life of me. But I do know that they all stare at you when you walk by. And some of the guys too. Holy shit, I still can't believe that you're getting it on with Jasper."

"Yeah, about that..." Goten said, stealing yet another glance around him. "Would you mind keeping that under wraps for the time being? I'm not exactly all that 'Out and Proud' yet, and I want to be the one who takes that step myself, if you catch my drift."

"Oh, sure man, no problemo," Neve assured him. "I'll keep my trap sealed shut." When Goten gave him a wary look, he mimed locking his mouth shut with an invisible key.

"Okay good," Goten said. "I'll try to speed things along. That way I don't have to torture you with keeping a secret for so long."

"Meh, I'll be fine," Neve said, waving his concerns away. "It's that Marron girl you have to watch out for. I've seen her floating around you and Trunks and Jasper during breaktime. Word has it that she's even more of a gossip queen than I am, so be careful what you say around her, she'll weasel anything out of you if you don't watch it."

"I'm not too afraid of her, believe it or not," Goten told him. "Sure, she has a lot of questions, but I don't think she has any idea-"

He would've gladly talked about how good Marron's investigative skills were some more, but someone pulled at his arm and dragged him into an empty classroom. For a second or two he was completely thrown off track, but then he realized where he was. He turned on the spot to holler at whoever had the nerve to manhandle him like that.

"I don't have any idea of what, exactly?"

Goten could only open and close his mouth like a fish on dry land. Marron was standing in front of him, her arms crossed in front of her chest and a bemused little smile playing at her lips.

"Let me help you finish that thought, Go," Marron said, smiling wider. Much like she had done with Trunks, Marron had given Goten a nickname as well. It wasn't as cringe inducing as the one that Trunks was forced to put up with, but it made his skin crawl nonetheless. "I have a lot of questions, but I don't have any idea..."

Goten tried not to gulp as his mind raced to find an answer. He could be truthful, but there was a very fat chance of hurting her feelings there, a prospect he didn't very much like. Sure, she could have her less pleasant moments, but all in all Marron was a very nice girl. On the other hand he could choose to tell her a lie, but he was a lousy liar. Strange, considering how much of his time he spent dreaming up fantasy worlds and lives of people who never existed in the first place.

After some deliberation he decided to go for the latter.

"That you have no idea what I'm getting Trunks for his birthday," he stated, staring at his feet and hoping that she wouldn't catch on. "And no offense, but you can be a little bit of a blab sometimes, so that's why I haven't told you."

Marron cocked an eyebrow at him, but she seemed to accept the answer he had given. When she made no further move or comment, Goten felt compelled to ask.

"So... is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no, not at all." Marron said, uncrossing her arms and clasping her hands behind her back. "It's just that I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you by yourself. We're always surrounded by people."

Goten felt the cinderblock in his stomach disappear and relief washed over him. "Uh, yeah, I guess you're right. So what did you want to talk about, then?"

"Hmmmm..." Marron was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, giving off the impression that she was even younger than she actually was. She looked straight out of elementary school. "What was it like living in the mountains?"

"Not so bad, actually," Goten replied, very glad to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters. "We didn't have a supermarket five minutes away, but there was a village at the foot of the mountain, so we always had the essentials. And we had a forest for a backyard, so even if we were low on meat or something, Gohan and I could hunt for our food."

"Ooooh!" Marron cooed, her eyes big and unbelieving. "So you could survive out in the forest for years if you wanted to?"

Goten contemplated this for a moment, then said "Yeah, I suppose so. I'd need a few tools to really make it work, but I could manage."

"That's so cool!" Marron almost shouted. "Maybe we can go camping sometime. And you could catch our food and prepare it, wouldn't that be cool?"

"Uh-huh, freakin' wild."

Marron laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "I never knew you were that awesome, Go. You can take care of yourself, you play the guitar, you're smart, not to mention a cutie -Goten pretended as though he hadn't heard that last part-. You really do have it all, don't you?"

"Not everything," Goten was quick to point out. "I never had any real friends until I came to the city, so there's that."

Marron made a noise that reminded Goten of little girls when they see a litter of puppies. "Aw, really?" she asked, batting her eyelashes in a gesture that was surely meant to be compassionate. "I thought you'd have to beat off the girls left and right."

And there it was, that little loop that he had been dreading. Somehow they had managed to bring the conversation back to whoever's tonsils Goten preferred to eat. It may have been the conversation with Neve, but Goten was almost certain that he saw a glimmer of expectancy in Marron's eyes.

"Yeah, think again..." he replied, letting his sentence die without really finishing it. He took such a quick look at his watch that he wasn't able to register the time it displayed. "But hey, not to be a spoilsport or anything, but I have to get to French class in like... two minutes ago, so I have to split." He wheeled around without giving her the time to reply.

She shouted something at him as he walked out the room. "Don't buy Trunks a new controller for his console, I'm already getting him that!"

Goten raised up a thumb for her to see right before speeding off, glad to leave the talk behind him. Neve was right; if he didn't watch it, she'd weasel anything out of him for sure.

* * *

Trunks almost tripped over his own feet when the bell rang that Saturday. Bulla had left one of her princess dolls in the main hall, right outside of his field of vision. This resulted in him smacking his forehead against the front door. As common sense would have it he cursed at the top of of his voice before opening the door.

"Hey!" Goten greeted as soon as he got into view. Trunks smiled at his friend and gestured for Goten to step inside. It was a pleasant surprise to see that Goten's jaw did not drop at the display of wealth that was the main hallway. Then Trunks remembered that Goten had at least seen his mother's office, which wasn't any less lavish than this.

"Come on, I'll show you towards the kitchen first," Trunks told him. "The whole family is there, so I'll have to introduce you. After that we've got to spend some time with the little sis. Then we're scotfree."

Goten nodded and followed in his footsteps. The kitchen could be reached by taking the right door in the main hall, after which one had to walk through a corridor with about a trillion doors on either side. The one that led to the kitchen was the one in the far back. As soon as they passed through it they were greeted by a wave of noise.

Trunks had to resist the urge to sigh. His mother was doing her cooking, as usual; Bulma, though worth more than her own weight in gold, liked to take on some chores around the house. She always said that it helped her feel normal. Trunks never complained though, since she was a very good cook. Bulla was watching one of her shows and his father sat at the kitchen table, watching his wife run from here to there, smirking whenever she bent over to grab a pan or reached up to pick something off the spice rack.

Trunks scraped his throat and three heads turned his way. Goten was standing off to the side, looking somewhat forlorn.

"I brought a guest," Trunks said, gesturing at his friend. "This is Goten. Mom, you already know him. Bulla, you get to meet him in a little bit. Dad, this is the kid I told you about, Gohan's little brother."

Vegeta rose from his chair without saying a word. Trunks admired the way Goten kept his ground as Vegeta walked over. Though the man would never admit it to anyone outside of his own family, he had had a heart of gold. When it came to running the family business, he was ruthless. When it came to running the household, he was very hands on. Even if he had the tendency to be overbearing -as most fathers did, Trunks reasoned-, the intention was always a good one. Vegeta would be here to make sure that Goten didn't get any funny ideas, whatever those may be.

"Gohan's little brother, huh?" Vegeta asked, ignoring the hand that Goten had extended as a greeting. "So, do you have the smarts too, or was it just a fluke?"

Goten wasted no time in replying. He was so fast to Trunks was actually impressed. "Gohan's always been a weird one, Mr. Briefs. Compared to him I'm as dumb as a bag of bricks."

"Nonsense!" Bulma piped up, stepping away from the countertop and pointing at Vegeta with a ladle dripping with sauce. "And you leave that poor kid alone. He's alright, I waterboarded him weeks ago and he's not leaking company secrets. Lighten up, will ya."

Vegeta glared at his wife, then moved back to his spot at the kitchen table, paying no further attention whatsoever. Goten sent a baffled look Trunks's way, but the other could only shrug. His father was an oddball, there was no way around that.

He felt something tug at the leg of his pants. Trunks looked down and into eyes that were just like his own, though much younger and a lot more spirited.

"Can we go and play now?" Bulla asked of him.

"Sure thing, Princess," Trunks said, stooping down to her height. "But before we do that you should introduce yourself, don't you think?"

Bulla gave a sharp, brisk nod, then trotted over to Goten. She put a tiny hand forward, which Goten shook politely. "Hi, my name is Bulla!" she squealed. Her twin buns bounced up and down as she danced from foot to foot.

"Heya Bulla, my name is Goten, nice to meet you!" Goten replied, smiling at the girl. "Trunks told me all about you. Is it true that you have the best tea parties in the world?"

"Damn right!"

"Bulla!" Bulma yelled from behind the stove, her face concealed by the billowing steam rising from the pan in front of her. "Language!"

"Oops, sorry," she giggled. Trunks couldn't help it; he was laughing along with her. There was little doubt that she had picked up that piece of vocabulary from him. She corrected herself neatly while speaking again. "Yes, I have the best tea parties. Do you wanna see?"

"Boy, do I!"

"Then what are we waiting for?!" Bulla shrieked in excitement. "Follow me!" She jerked Goten along without warning, a small hand clasped around his index and middle fingers. She disappeared from sight, leaving Trunks alone in the kitchen with his parents. He wasn't aware of the smile on his face; it was good to see that Goten was so nice to Bulla. He did not have a whole lot of prerequisites when it came to choosing his friends -you know, other than them not being money-grubbing snakes in the grass-, but treating his Princess according to her given title was one of them. So far Goten was doing great.

"Mom, can Goten stay for dinner?" Trunks asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

"Sure thing, honey," Bulma replied. "If you want your Dad can get the stretch bed from the attic, should he want to spend the night as well."

"That's fine by me," Vegeta said, using one of his more threatening tones of voice. "But don't you think of getting frisky, alright? If you end of pregnant I swear that I will get the coat hanger myself."

If he had been drinking anything, Trunks would've done a spit take. "Alright Dad, I'll keep it in mind. Now, I should better go after Goten, before Bula attacks him with her glittery makeup kit."

Imagine his amusement when he walked in on Goten and his Princess sitting at a low, pink desk. Goten looked thunderstruck as Bulla hovered over his hands. An open jar of nail polish stood on the desk; Bulla was busy decorating Goten's nails as if it was the most important thing in life. Much to Trunks's pleasure she had picked up the exact same shade of hot pink that she always forced on him. He was halfway done with laughing he realized that he would be her next victim.

Twenty minutes later they were all sitting around a table as pink as the desk against the wall, Goten on one side, Trunks on the other. Bulla sat at the head of the group, looking out over the two boys and half a dozen stuffed animals. She was busy handing out plastic tea cups and saucers. Meanwhile Trunks could only stare at his own nails, which were now -you guessed it- a beautiful shade of hot pink. Terrific. Just great.

"Don't you smirk at me like that," Trunks hissed when he caught Goten's eye, who had spent the last fifteen minutes doing everything within his power to not burst out laughing. "You're even prettier than I am, so you have no right to laugh."

"Aw, Trunks, don't be mean to Goten," Bulla reprimanded him. "He doesn't mind, he said it was okay. Now be quiet or else I'll give your tea to Mr. Snugglebumps."

"Yeah Trunkie, be quiet, or else Mr. Snugglebumps will drink your tea," Goten laughed.

Trunks flipped him off with a polished finger when Bulla wasn't looking.

The tea party lasted well over an hour. Bulla kept pouring them make believe cups of beverage, which the two boys sipped with pinky fingers raised high. They listened to her rave about her dancing and horse riding classes, nodding at the appropriate times and feigning their incredulousness every now and again. It did Trunks good to see how well Goten was able to get along with Bulla. He catered to the girl's fantasies just right, allowing her to become more and more ecstatic as the hour progressed. He got an explanation as to how when they had managed to shake Bulla off, and they were on their way to Trunks's room.

"Gohan has a daughter too, you know," Goten told him. "She's only about a year younger than Bulla, so it's nothing new to me."

"Not even the nail polish?" Trunks asked, glaring at his still pink fingers. Bulla didn't have any, and Bulma had flat out refused to lend them her remover, with the added comment that they could both use a little 'prettying up'.

"Been there, done that," Goten replied. "Though Pan prefers orange and green."

They were still laughing when they had reached Trunks's room. The door had been decorated with about a million video game covers. Trunks had taken them from their containers after he no longer played them, opting to use them as miniature posters instead. He heard Goten whistle appreciatively.

"Very nice," Goten said, letting his eyes roam over the titles. "You have a good taste in games."

"Thank you, kind sir," Trunks made a small bow. "Now if you would please enter my dormitory, for there awaits an afternoon of cursing and rage quits."

Goten whistled once more upon entering the room. For the most part it stood in direct contrast with the house it was located in. Trunks had taken care to pick out the most shabby looking sofa that he could get his hands on, and the wallpaper was peeling in places. What wasn't shabby, not at all, was the television that took up the majority of the room. About a dozen different consoles stood in the dresser below it. Beide that dresser were about five stacks of hundreds of games. Yeah, it was pretty cool alright.

"Wow man, this is insane," Goten said. "I thought I had a nice set-up, but this is just crazy."

"Glad you like it," Trunks said, using the remote to turn on the TV. He also fired up the console that sat on top of the dresser. He didn't even have to put his favourite game in the tray; the other ones had been collecting a fine layer of dust, for Trunks never played anything else these days.

"Any game that you want to play?" Trunks asked, gesturing towards the stacks of games.

"Eh, you pick something first, maybe afterwards I'll have a look," Goten answered.

"Sure thing." Trunks picked up a controller and connected it to the console. He selected the square on the screen that read 'Play Game'. For a moment the TV went black, then a warhorn could be heard, the surround sound set giving off the illusion that it came from somewhere far away.

Big, bold letters flashed across the screen, spelling out the name of the greatest game that had ever been developed. _BlasterSmash._

"You're fucking with me."

Trunks looked to his side, giving a puzzled frown. Goten was standing there, mouth agape and his gaze glued to the screen. He was still mouthing the words of his previous sentence, apparently completely baffled by something.

"Wassup?" Trunks asked. He felt the urge to nudge Goten in the shoulder to snap him from his thoughts. The answer came quicker than he had expected it.

"You play BlasterSmash too?" Goten almost shouted. He turned to Trunks with a look of ecstasy in his face. "Holy crap, that's fucking amazing. I've never met anyone who plays it in person."

"'Holy crap' seems a good choice of words," Trunks said, feeling stunned. "I've never met anyone who plays it either. Not in real life, at least."

"Uh-huh," Goten mumbled, his eyes back to the screen, seemingly unable to look away.

"Hey, if you want you can log in to your account," Trunks suggested, holding out a second controller. "That way you can play with your own character."

Goten nodded and took the controller from him, He had reached the login screen before Trunks even had the time to blink. Trunks almost dropped the controller in his hands when he saw the name Goten was entering.

"No way," he breathed. "Impossible."

Goten raised his eyebrows, now done with signing in. "What's the matter?"

"You're BansheeBlues?" Trunks asked, his disbelief growing by the second. " _The_ BansheeBlues?"

"Yeah," Goten replied in a casual tone. "What's so special about that? I didn't even know that I had a reputation."

"Dude," Trunks said, trying his hardest to accept the reality of it all. "I'm Captain Underpants."

They could only stare at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Never had either of them experienced anything this surreal. When the silence was broken, it was Goten who spoke.

"Holy goddamn shit. Fucking hell." He exhaled a few times to pull himself together. "Just... wow."

"You can say that again," Trunks agreed. "I never expected you to be BansheeBlues. Come to think of it, it should've been obvious for me."

He would've explained just why this was so obvious, but Goten's laughter drove those thoughts from his mind.

"What?" Trunks asked.

"'Captain Underpants'," Goten wheezed, one hand on his stomach, his cheeks streaming with tears. "Please, please tell me that it's a play on Briefs."

"What else could it be," Trunks pointed out, now smirking as well.

"Oh, this is glorious," Goten said while trying to regain his breathing. He wiped at the corners of his eyes. "Just brilliant."

"I have to admit that this is a pleasant surprise, yeah," Trunks spoke his agreement. "Now, once you're done laughing, how about we kill some fuckmothering Tuffles?"

Goten's gaze hardened almost instantly. "You got it, let's get it on!"

And thus BansheeBlues and Captain Underpants were also friends in the real world. No longer was there a wall of pixels between them. Oh, those poor, stupid Tuffles. They wouldn't know what hit them before it was too late.

* * *

"Oh, this is so exciting, I can't wait to see your room."

"Yes, you've said that twenty times already."

"Well I can't help it, I feel like a young girl being asked to the barn dance come Saturday. You're making me feel all flustered, big strong man, you."

"Oh, shut your pie hole."

"Make me."

Goten rolled his eyes as he walked up the stairs, Jasper following in his footsteps. Jasper had been in on his decision to keep their... whatever on the downlow, but he was having a much harder time sticking to the plan than Goten. As soon as they were out of earshot he would start cooing all these sweet little words, giving all these compliments that would make the heat rise to Goten's cheeks. Goten was terrified that his mother would pick up on it; he still didn't feel ready to shower her with the disappointment of his coming out.

They had just returned from band practice. Jasper was still smelling of the sweat that accumulated all over him whenever he played drums. It was almost enough incentive for Goten to jump him on the spot, but with all of his willpower he managed to keep himself grounded. Even if the guys in the band knew about them, it was no reason to bother them by sucking face in the middle of rehearsal. But, to be fair, Goten's restraint wasn't much stronger than that. His fingers were already shaky with anticipation as he reached for the key to his room.

"I hope your bed is comfy," Jasper mused, talking to himself more than to Goten.

"You'll see in a minute," Goten replied, unlocking the door and swinging it open. "Enter, if you dare."

"Oh cool," Jasper said as he stepped inside. What it was that he found cool, Goten had no idea. There was hardly anything in his room. All he had was his closet, his gaming system and Banshee and her amplifier. That and three shelves crammed full of books. When he came into the room himself, he found Jasper staring at something else entirely.

"How delightfully cliché," Jasper said, pointing at the poster of the kitty on the branch. "I've never encountered one of these in real life."

"Good to know that I bring something new to the table." Goten laughed. "Well, this is it. It's not much, I know."

"Eh, it's got everything we need," Jasper replied. "There's music and there's you. I couldn't ask for more."

Goten hated how easily Jasper could make him blush. Here he was, growing red once more. Jasper noticed it -of course he did- and chuckled, walking over to Goten and wrapping an arm around him.

"Sorry, I know how much you hate that," he said, kissing at Goten's temple. "But you have to understand that I _love_ it. I love it. You're so cute when you get all flustered."

"Just you wait," Goten said. "One day I'll manage to turn the tables on you."

"Keep on dreaming, doll."

And then they were kissing. Every loose thought was blasted from Goten's mind as Jasper's lips grazed against his. It had been too long. It felt like it had been eons since they could caress the other like that, to have their breaths mingle into a haze of ecstasy. They could steal a peck here and there at school, but only behind closed doors did they get the chance to shed their inhibitions like they were doing now.

Jasper pushed him back hard, causing him to stumble and hit his bed with the back of his legs. Goten allowed himself to fall back into the plushy embrace of his mattress. He hardly registered the soft crushing sensation of Jasper's weight on top of him, only the taste of his kiss and the roughness of his fingers sliding through thick, dark locks.

Like the week before, Goten grasped the collar of Jasper's shirt, pulling him in deeper and begging for more, his tongue dabbing at his lower lip, telling him to come out and play. Jasper obliged without a second's hesitation.

Goten didn't know what caused him to do so. It was like Jasper took all sense of reason away from him, leaving nothing but a shell of a boy lusting for another's touch. When he opened his eyes to find those green emeralds, Jasper's shirt was gone from his torso, now clutched in Goten's fist like a rag used to clean the kitchen. The sight of Jasper mesmerized him.

Jasper was lean, as most drummers were, but not overly muscular or broad. Pearls of sweat fell from his hair and onto his chest, his chiseled, toned, absolutely perfect chest. Goten followed one of the beads as it rolled across a nipple, over a scar that could've been the result of a particularly bad day at the playground years ago, falling all the way down to the fabric of his jeans. Goten had to do a double take when he saw what was below Jasper's belly button.

"Something the matter?" Jasper asked, picking up on his stunned silence.

Goten said nothing, but chose to brush his thumb over the words that spelled the name of one of the greatest songs he had ever heard. "At Last", the tattoo read.

"Oh, you like it?" Jasper queried.

Goten answered by raising his head up and kissing Jasper so hard that he was sure his lips would bruise. His hands raked over Jasper's shoulders, nails drawing red lines across the skin. Jasper only grunted against his kiss, even seeming to enjoy the mild prickling sensation.

A pair of hands found the buttons of his blouse, undoing them with a speed that he couldn't comprehend. Before Goten could stop to blink his chest was bared. Jasper lowered himself more, allowing Goten to feel a totally new sensation, the one of naked skins sliding together. He wouldn't be surprised if he was moaning at the top of his lungs.

Jasper was getting bored with his lips, it seemed. His ministrations travelled down, his smooches falling on Goten's jawbone and moving down towards his neck. This time he did moan. He heard Jasper chuckle at his own small victory, but Goten wouldn't have him lord it over him. He'd made him a promise after all. While Jasper was distracted with kissing his neck, Goten slid a hand behind the fabric of his jeans. Jasper gasped so loudly that Goten feared his mother had heard.

"What's the matter?" Goten asked, enjoying himself much more than he had expected. He gave the bulge in his palm the softest of twitches, delight filling him up as Jasper inhaled and shuddered.

"Goten, I..." Jasper breathed, unable to continue his trail of sloppy kisses. "What're you-"

Goten twitched his hand again and this time it was Jasper's turn to moan. The sound was like heaven. When the green-eyed boy had fallen silent, they passed a look between them, one that spoke of the lust that hung in the air, almost palpable to the touch. It was like torture, this tension, this expectancy of who would be the first to cave.

Jasper was the weak one, it seemed. It could have something to do with how Goten had a firm grasp on his cock, or maybe not. Either way he launched himself forward, clawing at Goten's hair and kissing him with a ferocity that was almost scary. But what was the most frightening was how much Goten was enjoying himself.

Jasper was suckling at his collarbone now, clouding his every thought and making his heart thump faster. Goten opened his eyes to slits to watch his lover at play. He could see Jasper looking back at him, a deep, penetrating green conveying every word unspoken. And, just behind that, there was something else.

Gohan was standing in the doorway, holding a tray with tea cups and biscuits, the look in his eyes spelling pure astonishment.

Goten hoisted himself up, pushing Jasper aside, who was still blissfully unaware of the situation.

Gohan scraped his throat. "Uh, so... Yeah... I'll just put these down..." He set the tray down on a stack of clothing. "...and I'll... I'll be on my way. Okay, right. I'm going now, right." And with that he strode off, leaving Goten mortified.


	6. Chapter 6

**Heya! Chapter six is done and ready for your reading pleasure!**

 **It surprises me to see how fast this story is going. It has been a while since I have been this productive for a story. Not that y'all will mind, of course.**

 **Now please read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

"Gohan, no, come back!" Goten shoved Jasper aside. He buttoned his blouse on the way to the door. When he glanced down the hallway, Gohan had already gone. Goten cursed.

Jasper sat and watched him for a while, saying nothing. It wasn't until Goten tossed him his shirt that he started to move, pulling the garment back on. His silence was unnerving; Goten did not know what to do right now. There was no sense in barging after Gohan right away, that would only serve to look suspicious. On the other hand, the longer he waited, the more explaining he had to do. And Jasper keeping quiet wasn't helping in the least.

Goten gave an exasperated sigh and sat down on his bed, running a hand through his hair while contemplating his options. He did not protest when Jasper moved in behind him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, kissing the top of his head.

"Are you okay?" Jasper asked while nuzzling into his locks.

"I suppose so," Goten grumbled. "Gohan won't do anything rash. He'll want to talk to me first."

"Do you think he'll mind?"

Goten shook his head. "No, Gohan is as kind as they come. The only thing that he'll mind is that I haven't told him sooner, which I get. It must suck to find out this way."

"Yeah, I suppose," Jasper said. "Why don't you talk to him after dinner? I bet he'll appreciate if you go to talk to him."

Easier said than done, though. Dinner was a most awkward affair that evening. Goten hardly ate, stealing glances at his brother between bites to gauge his behaviour. Once or twice he found Gohan staring back, which made him lower his head to his plate in the blink of an eye. Jasper sat by Goten's side. Giving his hand a reassuring squeeze below the table every now and again, which helped, if only a little. The rest of the people present seemed to be oblivious; Chi-Chi never ceased her ranting about her work in the local grocery store and Videl fed this drive of hers by asking a thousand and one questions. Pan kept herself busy by talking nonstop about her new toys and whatnot.

All in all it went okay. Goten didn't get too many hard questions sent his way and neither did Jasper, which they took in their stride. When dinner was over and Chi-Chi and Videl were busy cleaning the dishes away, aided by an enthusiastic but not very helpful Pan, Goten sought out Gohan. He found him sitting in the backyard. Goten approached his brother with Jasper close in his wake.

"There's still a lot of work to be done here," Gohan said when he noticed the two boys. He gestured towards the yard, which was mostly barren, save for a few lawn chairs. "Maybe a nice patch of flowers will brighten things up, or else something like a pond for fish, if Mom will let me pay for it."

"Good luck trying to pull that off," Goten replied. "You'd have a better chance taming a bull."

Gohan sniggered. "True. I could do it as a surprise though, you know, lure her out of the house for the day and get a crew to do all the work."

Goten said nothing to this. He pulled up a lawnchair and sat down by Gohan's side. The scraping of plastic legs told him that Jasper had copied his actions.

While the Son family had a history of naivety, Gohan was very quick on the uptake. He loosened his tie and turned to his younger sibling. "So, I guess that you want to tell me something."

Goten nodded and gave a weary sigh. "Yeah, I owe you an explanation."

"What makes you say that?"

This puzzled Goten. "What do you mean? Don't you have any questions?"

"Sure I do," Gohan answered. He turned to Jasper, who bolted upright in his chair, not prepared to be dragged into the conversation this early on. "You, Jasper. I have a few questions for you, if you don't mind."

Jasper blinked. "Eh, sure, fire away."

"How old are you?"

"I'm seventeen."

"And how long have you and Goten been... involved?"

"I think for about a week or two," Jasper replied. "Though we met about a month ago."

Gohan hummed in understanding. "Okay, and am I going to have to do this whole 'protective brother' thing, or are you going to make it easy on me?"

Jasper frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah Gohan, you're not making a whole lot of sense," Goten added.

"Oh, I thought I was being pretty clear," Gohan said. "Ah well, fine, I'll explain." He sat upright and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his gaze firmly trimmed on Jasper. "I mean, do I have to go through this whole charade where I ask you what your intentions are with my brother? Do I need to press the fact that if you hurt him, you'll have me to deal with? And, of course, do you think that I should threaten you in some way or form to make clear how serious I am? Let's say... 'If you do anything to upset Goten, I will come to your house at night and break everything you own'?"

Goten could only gape at Gohan. Jasper was feeling much the same; his lips were forming words, but they did not leave him as sounds.

"G-Gohan," Goten asked. "Are you saying that you don't have a problem with, well, us?" He gestured between himself and Jasper.

"Of course not!" Gohan replied. "Why would you even think that? Goten, you are old enough to make your own decisions and I know that you're a smart kid. If this is what you want, then there is nothing I can do to stop you."

"Well that makes things easier," Jasper commented.

"So, just to be clear, you have no issues with me being into guys?" Goten asked, still not really believing what he was hearing. He had suspected that Gohan would be fine with it, but he hadn't counted on him being so aloof.

"Only if I have to walk in on you doing stuff with said guys," Gohan clarified. "Goten, don't take me for an idiot, please. There's nothing wrong with being gay and you know it perfectly well, and so do I. I don't care if you choose boys over girls. All I want you to do is fall for the right person, regardless of their gender." Gohan's eyes flashed over Jasper for a second.

"O...kay..." Goten said. "Well, I suppose that clears things up. Thanks for being so understanding."

"No problem, squirt."

Goten smiled, now relieved. "Well I guess that I have to reintroduce you. This is Jasper," he said, gesturing at the boy who was wiggling in his seat awkwardly. "He's..." he paused for a second. "He's my boyfriend."

It felt strange, giving it a name, this whatever it was he had going on with Jasper. Goten had liked the vagueness of it all. It felt good to have no real obligations within the confines of what could be seen as a relationship, to have what was essentially total freedom. Yet, saying a word such as this one out loud made everything much more real. It took away any lasting illusions. Goten stole a glance at Jasper in the hope to see his claims confirmed. Jasper took Goten's hand in his and gave it a little squeeze.

Okay, so far, so good. He actually had a boyfriend now, killer. Strange day, today.

Gohan nodded at Jasper and graced both boys with a smile. "Hey Jasper, nice to actually meet you. Not doing anything bad to my little brother, are you?"

"No sir," Jasper responded. "No sir, not at all."

"Good," Gohan said. "Because if you do I have to break you like a twig."

Jasper laughed. "And it would be fair if you did."

"Speaking of breaking people like twigs, what do you think Mom will say when I tell her?" Goten felt that a second opinion might do him some good; perhaps he was being too judgemental about his mother.

Gohan had to think that one through. "Well, I think that you'll have to ride out a bit of a storm first. She might cry for a bit, because now her little boy isn't in the market for a good wife anymore. But I also think that once she's had a chance to get used to the idea, she will be fine about it. As long as you don't deprive her of a chance of getting any more grandchildren, I'm sure you'll do alright."

Goten sighed. Gohan was right, of course. Chi-Chi loved her own children far too much to let something like this get in the way. Still, he felt no immediate desire to go and tell her. He conveyed this to Gohan, who agreed with him.

"You're right," Gohan said. "Mom is still a little stressed out from the move. Give it a little more time before you say anything."

Goten nodded. "Right. Anything else I need to keep in mind?"

Gohan nearly choked on his coffee. "Yes. Lock your door if you plan on getting nasty."

* * *

Alcoholism was a tough job. Trunks realized this the moment that he walked into the liquor aisle at the local supermarket. Rows and rows of wine, beer, hard booze, so on and so on. The labels were looking his way and luring him in with their coloured letters, goading him into purchase. More than once he'd reached towards one of the bottles, stopping just before taking it off the shelve.

He wasn't much of a drinker, he never had been. He'd taken the occasional glass of wine during one of his parents' fancy dinners and he was no stranger to a beer or two, but as it turned out he had never actually bought alcohol himself. Now that he was surrounded by it, he was stumped as to what he should buy.

Thankfully he had brought along some help.

"Ooooh. Trunkie, look at this one!" Marron's voice cooed at him from down the aisle. Trunks resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He expected her to have found another bright pink or purple bottle filled with some sweet, girly drink. She had bothered him about getting something of the sort several times already. If this was another one of her attempts to 'pink up' his party, as she put it herself, he would just indulge her. Anything to speed this along.

As it turned out, he was off on his prediction. Marron had spotted the stash of chocolate liqueur, something that managed to rouse the boy's interest. Good, the first drink had been found. Now for the rest.

"Say, who are you going to invite anyway?" Marron asked him. "You know, so we can decide how much else we are going to get."

"I dunno," Trunks said, which was the truth. He reckoned that no matter who he decided to ask, they would all gladly come. Not a whole lot of people were given the chance to attend a party at Capsule Corps, so they would all jump on it granted the opportunity. The thing was, Trunks wasn't exactly jumping for joy to let just anyone into his house.

"You can come, of course," Trunks told Marron. "And I was thinking about maybe inviting some other people from our class. Neve and Sadie are alright, I suppose, and Tito can come too if he wants."

"And what about Goten and Jasper?" Marron pointed out.

"Oh yes, sure," Trunks answered. "But they were going to be invited anyway." He took down two bottles of white wine that he recognized from his mother's collection and dropped them into the shopping cart he had been pushing around.

"Speaking of," Marron said, her eyes perusing the shelves for more liquor. "Who do you think is doing best so far? Me or Jasper?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"With our bet, Trunkie," Marron sighed. "Don't tell me that you forgot already."

"Oh right," Trunks said. "That. I have no idea." Only that wasn't the truth. Trunks was no fool. He spent most of his classes sitting next to the boys in question. He hadn't caught the two of them doing anything... well, intimate, but Trunks would wager his parents' fortune that something was going on between Goten and Jasper. It was just too obvious. They were always talking to each other with such excitement, not to mention the way they passed notes whenever they couldn't use their voices. And the way they looked at one another, it was sweet enough to make your teeth rot.

Yes, if Trunks were one to judge, he'd say that Jasper wasn't only on the winning end of their bet, he was knocking the damn thing right out of the park. Recalling that the two of them had band practice this very moment, Trunks had to bit down a giggle; they were probably sucking face that very instant.

He told none of this to Marron. There was no need to give her more reason to speak. If he defied her point of view now, one where she was the ultimate seducer and she was slowly winding Goten around her little finger, she would go off like a bomb. He'd never hear the end of it.

"Oh, sure you know," Marron said, slapping him on the arm. "You're such good friends with him after all. C'mon, tell me, what kind of girls is Goten into?"

He had to resist with all his might to not say 'girls with a penis'. Instead he just shrugged. "Why don't you just ask him yourself?"

"Of course not, silly!" Marron said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "That would take away the fun of the game. You'd think with all the BlasterSmash you play, you would be a bit better at understanding how games work."

"Right," Trunks quipped. "But then again, BlasterSmash isn't about tricking some poor guy out of his pants."

Marron rolled her eyes at him, causing irritation to swell up inside of him. Her and her goddamn ego. "I don't like to look at it like that," Marron said. "I think of it more as a new version of Capture the Flag."

"What, like Capture the Dick?"

"Oh haha, aren't we being funny."

"Better yet, I am hilarious."

"You just laugh," Marron said, wagging a finger at him. "I'll get that boy, mark my words. And I know just when I am going to make my move."

"Oh god," Trunks sighed. He steered the shopping cart towards the register; though they hadn't bought much, they would have enough for the small selection of guests that Trunks would be inviting. "Just warn me before you do, though. I want to know when everything will blow up in your face, so I can stay clear of the explosion."

Marron glared at him, but it only sufficed to make him laugh. Trunks wasn't sure what he liked better, Marron's determination to, in her words, 'make her move, or the knowledge that whatever she would try would be futile. Sure, he complained about his life a lot, but sometimes even he got his little pleasures.

Mean as they were.

* * *

South City wasn't the worst place to live. Goten reasoned this to himself as he sauntered through the streets, just giving his eyes a chance to take it all in. He'd only been here for about a month and he was still discovering things about it, landmarks that helped him find his way, or stores that he made a mental note of to check out. He'd spotted several music stores already and seeing how he was in the market for a new amplifier -a Fender Bassman, obviously- he couldn't get enough of all the window displays.

Today though he had his sights set on something else entirely. Goten was still a mountain boy at heart. It was hard not to be. He had played in the woods by his house for years whenever he was not wailing on Banshee's strings. He had gone camping with his father and brother more times than he could count. He missed those things a lot despite the luxuries that city life brought along. He wanted to go and find some semblance of nature in this concrete jungle.

Trunks had told him that South City had a very large park. It had sounded like something worth checking out. Thus, Goten had slung Banshee over his shoulder on a clear afternoon and had set off towards South City Park.

The place was easy enough to find. The entrance was a wrought iron gate in a Victorian type of style, hinting that the park itself had been here for longer than most of the city. Goten took a second to appreciate it before heading into the sea of green before him.

In here it was much, much better. Goten would not find out until later that someone had been bright enough to build noise-deflecting walls around the park, so there was no sound of traffic to be heard, nothing but the serene silence of nature itself. That and the screaming children. Pan really was the exception to the rule; Goten despised children. _Go and yell your head off somewhere else, people come here for their rest, geez._

A neat gravel path cut the grass in two. Goten followed it. He'd see eventually where he would end up, as long as it offered some peace and freaking quiet.

It wasn't long until he reached a pond full of ducks. Goten looked around, happy to note that there were no screaming little assholes over on the side of the park. The ducks would be sure to make a racket as well, but they were much easier to ignore. Goten was already marching towards one of the benches on the side of the pond when he noticed someone sitting on it. Someone with purple hair.

"Hey!" Goten chimed.

Trunks looked up from the notebook in his lap. He appeared somewhat surprised to see Goten, but he returned the greeting nonetheless. The older boy put his pencils away and gestured for Goten to come sit beside him. Goten took him up on the offer.

"So what brings you to this neck of the woods?" Trunks asked.

"Following you up on your advice," Goten replied. "You were right, it is a nice place. I can see myself coming here more often."

"Well, join the club," Trunks joked. "I like coming here as well, especially this pond. I guess it helps me get away from it all, you know."

"Uh-huh," Goten agreed.

"So is that the lady I've been hearing so much about?" Trunks jabbed his thumb at the case on Goten's back.

"Oh, right!" Goten slung Banshee from his shoulder and opened the clasps on her case. He lifted his darling out with utmost care, laying her across his lap. Trunks gave an appreciative whistle when he laid eyes on her.

"Thank you, thank you." Goten said. He caressed her sleek body with his fingertips. "She loves the compliments, by all means, keep going."

Trunks gave an exasperated sigh. "Ugh, women."

This made Goten laugh. "Hey now, she might be a lady, but that is no reason to be sexist." His gaze shifted towards the notebook between them. "What were you drawing, anyway?"

Trunks flipped back to the page that he had been drawing on, showing it to Goten. Much like the drawing Goten had seen in class, this one pictured ducks by a pond, the very pond they were sitting by right this moment. Just like before the white duck made an appearance.

"What is it with you and ducks?" Goten asked, genuinely curious.

"That's kind of a long story," Trunks said. All of a sudden he did not quite meet Goten's eyes.

"You can tell me, I promise," Goten said, giving a small wink. "Besides, I bet it's not as strange as the mountain boy who treats his guitar like it is a person."

He got a chuckle out of the other boy with that. "Eh, sure, why not, but don't judge me, alright?"

"I always judge you on a million things, but on this I will not."

Trunks lowered his eyebrows. "You judge me? On what? My fashion choices?"

"Among other things, yes. Now stop trying to change the subject."

That earned him a roll of the eyes. "Fine," Trunks huffed. "But I warned you. Okay, so here's the thing. As you may or may not know, I'm not that great at making friends."

"I may have noticed something like that, yes."

"Okay," Trunks continued. "Well, that's mostly because a lot of people around me want to be friends with me for their own gain. You know, money-grubbers. It was kind of bumming me out a year or two ago, but then one day I went to this pond and saw the ducks. I fed them my leftover bread and ever since I have been coming here almost daily. I guess I like the routine."

"That's not that weird," Goten said. And he was serious; most people had much stranger habits or quirks. Feeding ducks was very tame in comparison. "But it still doesn't explain the white duck, though."

Trunks broke out into an unexpected smile. "And that is where it gets weird," he admitted. "Watch." He rummaged through his bag and retrieved a sack filled with old slices of bread. He took a few and began tearing them apart. He also handed Goten several slices, who was quick on the uptake. They sat together and let it rain flakes. The ducks sped for the feast, almost knocking each other over in an attempt to gorge themselves. It made Goten smile.

This went on for a while, when Trunks suddenly became very excited. He pointed towards the edge of the pond, where a splendid white duck was just crawling onto the bank. Goten watched it waddle over to them, sizing them up with brilliant red eyes.

"This is Beaker," Trunks explained. "He's been here from day one and he always comes to say hello." Trunks tossed the albino a full slice, which it gobbled up like it hadn't eaten in days.

"Wow, he's really pretty," Goten said. He watched the bird ruffle its own feathers for a while. It caught him off guard by jumping onto the bench and nestling itself between the two boys. Goten sat as if frozen, terrified that he would do something to frighten or hurt it.

Trunks laughed out loud. "Don't worry, Beaker is as harmless as they come," he said. "I don't know why he does it either, but I love it either way." Trunks reached out and began petting the bird. It closed its eyes and nestled between their thighs a little deeper, clearly content with this position.

Goten was mesmerized by all of this. He hadn't taken Trunks for someone so... what was the word... sensitive? While it had been clear to the younger boy that Trunks had some difficulty socializing, he had never imagined this. Trunks was the kind of person to keep up a front built from sarcasm and a good sense of humour. Goten had been wondering what would be lurking behind these defense mechanisms, but this still came as a surprise.

It was really, really sweet. Cute even.

"So, now it's your time to share," Trunks said with a sharp exhale.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh please," Trunks scoffed, laughing. "I'm sitting here, pouring my heart out about how I am some sad little kid who can't make friends other than a duck. Did you honestly think that I'd let you get away without sharing something about yourself?"

"And what would you have me do?" Goten asked. For as far as he could recall he wasn't really hiding anything, and there was nothing that Trunks wasn't allowed to ask him.

"You keep bragging about how well Banshee sings the blues. Well, I'd like to hear it for myself. Or no, damn, you don't have an amplifier in your back pocket, do you?"

Goten couldn't help but grin. "Allow me to surprise you." Goten hadn't just been carrying Banshee with him when he came to South City Park. He also had another bag with him that resembled the ones used by businessmen, all square and grey and ugly. He heaved it onto the bench, finding it hard to position it right, with the guitar there, not to mention two boys, a notebook and a freaking bird. He managed it in the end, zipping the bag open and retrieving a miniature amplifier. It was a bright orange and it looked worse for wear.

The confused look on Trunks's face only sufficed to make the whole thing better.

"This is an amp that works on a nine volt battery," Goten explained. "So that means that I can take it with me wherever I go. I wanted to come to the park and play Banshee for a bit anyway, so I thought I might as well bring it along."

The required cables were in the bag as well. Goten hooked her up and was delighted to hear, on the first strum of her strings, that she did not need any tuning. He said nothing, but rather just began to play.

Once again it struck him as odd how much her song was changing. Over the past month her tones had become much more cheerful. Yes, she was still a blues child and she still wailed like one, but even so there was a lot less heartache to her voice. Today she seemed to reflect the weather, her song mingling with the singing of the birds and the quacking of hungry ducks. It was a strange song to Goten, but it still flew off his fingertips without him having to really try. It just came to him.

Trunks watched him in silence, a small smile playing his lips. Goten took this as positive feedback and continued, wondering where this particular anthem would end up. Banshee took him into a realm of happiness, a place not yet fully known to him, so he was eager to explore it more.

Of course he had to stop playing eventually, or else he would be very much antisocial. He ended Banshee's song on a high note. When he unplugged her and put her away, Trunks gave him a polite applause.

"Thank you, thank you," Goten said, smiling. It was still kind of hard to deal with compliments; the only people who had ever really heard him play were his family and his bandmates.

"That was pretty damn good, man," Trunks said. "Seriously. No wonder that the band was so quick to take you in."

"Heh, thanks, I try."

"I bet you do," Trunks said. "Now I really do want you to write the intro to my animated series."

They laughed together, but Goten was quite suddenly interrupted by a buzzing noise coming from his pocket. He freed his phone and read the screen. Sadie was calling him.

"Hey, this is Got-"

"Uh-huh..."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Uh-huh..."

"Oh my god, really?"

"Well Sadie, don-"

"Yeah sure, of course. Give me thirty minutes, okay?"

"Good, I'll see you in a bit."

He hung up and released an enormous sigh. Trunks was looking at him with his eyebrows raised.

"That was Sadie," Goten explained. "That asshole she had been seeing broke up with her. Said he's been involved with another girl for a while and 'that he couldn't do something so unfair to her."

"Oh shit, is she alright?"

"Afraid not." Goten sighed again. "She's a bit of a mess right now. I'm gonna go over there and see if there is anything I can do for her. Wanna tag along? I don't think I have the energy to deal with a heartbroken girl right now."

Trunks didn't know how to respond to that. Never before had he been asked to act as emotional support. "Eh, yeah, sure, I guess so. Do you think she won't mind?"

"Not at all," Goten said, and then a little smile broke his face in half. "She's been saying for a while now that I ought to drag you along to her house sometime. I think she has a bit of a crush on you, Trunkie."

Trunks glared daggers at him, making him laugh. "You better shut up if you know what's good for you."

"Oh, Trunkie, you know I'm only joking," Goten said. He rose from the bench, making sure that he didn't bother Beaker in the process. "Now c'mon, we have someone's name to slander and a tub of chocolate ice cream to eat."

* * *

Another week went by faster than anyone could keep up with. Before long it was Saturday again. Trunks had lived through the past few days on autopilot, using most of his brainpower planning for his birthday party the following week. He had to have everything in order, because he was and always had been a control freak. He'd have to thank his mother for that, though he suspected his father also had a hand in that particular character trait.

He praised the heavens that he had managed to befriend Goten. The boy was a genius when it came to tying all the loose ends together. This particular Saturday Trunks had gone over to Goten's house in order to finalize all the plans. It was a little weird, he had to admit. Other than Marron he had never been over to a friend's house before.

Goten's mother had been a peculiar one. She had been over the moon that Goten had brought company, immediately asking Trunks if he would like to stay for dinner. He had taken her up on her offer, in part because he feared that he would step on her feelings by declining. His own mother had seen no issues with this; like Chi-Chi, Bulma felt that Trunks could do with some socializing.

So they had worked for most of the afternoon, looking over the plans that they had drawn up for the party. If everything went according to how they envisioned it, it should be one hell of a night. Bulma had allowed him to use the entire ground floor, so that meant that the kitchen, living room, and den were all available. Seeing how he hadn't invited a whole lot of people, he figured that they could do with just the kitchen and the living room. Not only did it save space and cleaning work, but it also decreased the chances of something breaking. It would take half a day alone to move everything valuable from the living room, so Trunks would do whatever it took to make sure that his parents' prized possessions stayed intact.

With the plans seen to, it was about time for some relaxation. They had already played a few games of BlasterSmash, but right now there weren't many people online on the servers, so that meant very little competition. There were only a few players left who could really pose a challenge for the amazing tag team that was BansheeBlues and Captain Underpants and none of them were online right now. They had breezed their way through a handful of Deathmatches before they had decided to leave the game alone.

To kill some of the boredom Goten had taken Banshee into his lap. He was playing something random, but Trunks didn't mind. Goten really was an excellent guitar player. Besides, he liked the background music while he was drawing.

Two weeks ago he had been arguing with himself over just _what_ he should be drawing. It was real good and all that he knew how to draw ducks now, but that wasn't going to cut it. Ever since he had been looking for a new subject, and he had actually managed to find one. For now though; he reasoned that it was only temporary.

Goten was sitting at just the right angle, his back to the wall, one leg up and the other stretched along the length of his bed. The afternoon sun fell through the window and onto Banshee's gleaming body, her ethereal shine appearing and disappearing with every strum on her strings. Goten himself had a look of utmost concentration, largely concealed by the hair falling into his face.

Trunks tried to grasp as many details as he could. It surprised him how easy it turned out to be. He hardly had to try to capture the way Goten's locks swayed back and forth as he poured himself deeper into his own creation, nor did it bring him difficulty to etch the lines of his physique as he bent over the instrument, holding her in an unparalleled, intimate embrace.

He did not know why this particular image of Goten appealed to him so much. He just knew that he had to draw it. His pencil darted all over the paper, adding shading in Goten's face or adding to the intricacies of his clothing. Goten had been right. Once you found a subject, the entire thing became a lot easier.

He had been more engrossed in his work than he had realized. Goten's voice snapped him back to the world of the living.

"What're you drawing?"

That particular question had become so familiar to him; Goten asked him this every time he saw him at work. Trunks enjoyed it, because at least someone other than himself was interested in his creations. It gave his ego just the littlest bit of a boost, one that he needed more than he realized.

"I'm not ready to show yet," Trunks said, his voice muffled with his tongue clamped between his teeth. Honestly though, while he was perfectly ready to share his work any other day, he wasn't so sure whether or not he should show this one to Goten. What would the guy think? The drawing was proof that he had been staring at Goten for well over an hour, which, if you thought about it, could be interpreted as a bit creepy.

"Ah, c'mon," Goten said, pouting his lip. Trunks couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Please?" Goten asked, doing his best to give something along the lines of puppy eyes. It wasn't too bad of an attempt either.

Trunks sighed. "Okay, fine, but don't freak out, okay?"

"What could I freak out about?"

Instead of telling him, Trunks merely showed him the drawing. He heard Goten suck in his breath and he waited for the final judgement. He thought it was creepy, no doubt about it.

"Holy shit, that is so cool!"

Trunks had to blink twice. Had he just heard that right? "I'm sorry?"

"I said that it looks cool!" Goten said. "Better yet, it's amazing! I can't believe how much detail you managed to get in there. It looks just like me, and Banshee looks like Banshee. Awesome man, awesome!"

Trunks raised his eyebrows. "So you're not creeped out that I've been watching you from the corner of my eye the past hour?"

"No, of course not! Okay, maybe a very little bit, but still," Goten looked at the drawing, his eyes as large as dinner plates. "This is so cool, man. Can I have it when you're done? Please?"

"Sure," Trunks said, not seeing the problem with that. "Just hold still for a little while longer though, I have to creep on you some more if I want to finish this."

"No problem," Goten said with a large smile. "And don't worry about the creeping, I will just take it as a compliment."

This made Trunks think of something that had popped into his mind earlier in the week. He had managed to repress it then, but now he felt compelled to ask. So he did.

"Hey, Goten, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, shoot."

"Okay, first off, don't take this the wrong way, okay? I don't mean to offend you or whatever."

"Ooh, this is getting exciting."

Trunks exhaled and steeled himself. "Okay, so I'll just get this over with. First off..." he hesitated a bit, not sure how to put it. He eventually decided on the not so subtle approach. "Are you gay?"

Goten did not bat an eye. "As gay as two unicorns fucking on a rainbow, yes."

It was a good thing Trunks hadn't been drinking anything. Before he knew it he was laughing so hard that he was actually wheezing. Goten laughed along with him. It took him a while to regain his composure.

"Okay, hehe, okay," Trunks said, still trying to get his breathing back under control. "Thanks for being so honest. Now for my second question."

"I'm waiting."

"Are you and Jasper, you know... a thing?"

Goten's lips twitched upward into a dreamy smile. "Is it that obvious?"

"To me it is," Trunks admitted. "But I think you're doing a pretty good job of hiding it for the rest of the world."

"Okay, sweet. So, has your hunger for knowledge been seen to?"

Trunks bit his lower lip. Truth to be told, he had other reasons to ask Goten these questions. Goten seemed to pick up on it.

"Hey, is something wrong?"

Trunks waited a second to reply. He had a choice here, deny all or admit all. He chose the latter, knowing that his friend would appreciate it in the long run.

"Okay, Goten, look," he began. "I think you should know something. Before you came to school here, Marron and Jasper decided to start a bet. And I don't know how to put this, but... well... the bet was to see who could get to you first."

Goten looked back at him with a puzzled frown. Seeing it felt like a pang to the heart. "What do you mean, exactly?"

Trunks sighed. "Well they were both talking about how they wanted a boyfriend, see, and they decided to make you their, what should I call it... prize, if you will."

Goten stayed silent for a very long time. He just sat there, fiddling on Banshee's strings and filling the room with her sad tones. Trunks already wished that he hadn't told Goten anything; the smile had fallen away from his face and his eyes seemed contemplative now, as if he wasn't sure what to believe in anymore.

Eventually he did speak. "Thanks for telling me," he said, the smile returning for half a second. "I really appreciate it."

"So what now?" Trunks asked. "I didn't mean to meddle in anyone's relationship, but I really think that you had a right to know."

"I'm not sure," Goten answered. "Of course I'm not happy that Jasper approached me because he wanted to win a bet. I'm definitely going to have to talk to him about that."

"I feel a 'but' coming."

" _But_..." Goten said. "We've also been an actual thing for about three weeks now. Don't you think that if the bet was all he cared about, he would've rubbed it in Marron's face already?"

"Huh," Trunks said. "You have a point there."

"I guess I don't know what to think of it," Goten explained. "I mean, I really, really like him a lot. I guess that if he feels the same way, it will all turn out in the end."

"Phew," Trunks fake-wiped the sweat from his brow. "I was already afraid that I had broken up a relationship."

Goten chuckled at that. "Nah, if anything I'm glad you told me. Now, hurry up with that drawing already, I want to put it up on the wall."

* * *

Stress, stress and even more stress. That was what today was all about. Despite the fact that it was his birthday, Trunks was running all around the ground floor of his house, putting things out, putting things away, putting things up and putting them down again. In a little under an hour his party guests would be arriving and there was still so much left to do. He could hardly take it. He cursed himself for going through with this, because he wasn't certain if he could deal with all the pressure.

He was musing this to himself as he stood outside smoking a cigarette. He was thankful that there was still that little voice in the back of his head that told him that all would be well, that as as soon as the party had taken off, things would work themselves out. Still, it did nothing to quell his nerves.

The one thing that did help ease his mind was Goten's presence. Goten had arrived halfway during the afternoon to help him set up for the night. He had been a great help; most of the arrangements had been seen to and now it was only a matter of waiting for the guests to arrive. His parents had already gone away for the evening, so they wouldn't be of any bother.

"You really should knock it off with those things," Goten remarked when Trunks crushed the butt of his cigarette beneath his sole. "Trust me, it'll help you reel in the ladies if your breath is nice and fresh."

"Maybe tomorrow," Trunks said. "Tonight I'm planning on getting shit-faced, and I smoke like a chimney when I'm drunk."

"Sure, sure," Goten said. "At least now I know what I can buy you for next year. How does a box of nicotine patches sound?"

Trunks rolled his eyes. "Like you're a goddamn smartass."

"Of course I am," Goten replied. "What else would you have me be?"

"How about quiet?"

"Yeah, no. Not gonna happen."

Trunks glared at Goten, then started to laugh. He really was blessed with the guy, he had to admit. A month and a half ago he would've told anyone that he had no real friends, only people that he could stand to be around. But Goten was his friend alright, the real deal. He would never say it out loud in fear of being cheesy, but it was the best gift he could've wished for.

The doorbell rang. Some of the guests were early, it seemed.

Goten caught his eye. "You ready?"

Trunks exhaled and nodded. "As ready as I am ever going to be. Let's just hope that tonight will turn out alright."

"I bet it will."

Too bad neither of them could really tell the future. If they had, they might've been able to do some damage control.


	7. Chapter 7

**Say whaaaaaat?! Two new chapters within twenty-four hours? You're damn right, two chapters!**

 **This one I like very, very much. I had a lot of fun writing it, so I can only pray that it is just as much fun to read.**

 **Now please read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

A week ago Trunks had been nervous about his birthday party. A few hours ago he had been biting his nails down to nothing. And right now, with the party in full swing, he couldn't have felt better about it. That may have just been the alcohol, but hey, if it worked, it worked.

He had decided to make it small, in part because he did not feel like cleaning up after a hundred people, and mostly because he despised most people anyway, so why the hell would he invite them to his party?

Trunks walked around the living room, talking to everyone present. It was surprising how social he became after only a few drinks; he had just spent half an hour talking with Tito and now he was deeply engrossed in a conversation with Neve. He had never known why Neve always dressed the way he did, as if he were some fifty-year old war veteran, but after the night had progressed Neve had felt it safe to let Trunks in on his reasoning. Poor guy, losing your father at such a young age must be terrible.

Other than Neve and Tito he had also invited Sadie. He had had some trouble adjusting to the girl's enormous amounts of energy; even Marron couldn't rival her. Last week had been a turning point, though. After Goten had received her emotional phone call, they had gone over in an attempt to comfort her. It had been awkward at first, for Trunks had never imagined her throwing herself into his arms, bawling her eyes out onto his shoulder. Goten had stood to the side surveying it all with a knowing smirk. If Trunks were to ask him, he would say that Sadie went for him because she harbored somewhat of a crush for Trunks. The boy himself had scoffed off the remark, but it became a lot harder to deny when her tears were staining his shirt.

All good and well, they had stayed with Sadie until late at night. The poor thing had been so distraught, her white hair a tangly mess and her eyes puffy and red. She had cried for hours, only because some son of a bitch had been unfaithful to her. Looking back on it, it made Trunks's blood boil. Sadie was a nice girl. And nice girls didn't deserve to be treated like objects. He had said this to Sadie too, though it had only sufficed in making her cry harder. She would later admit that this was because she found his kindness hard to handle.

Ever since then he liked Sadie a lot better. For some reason she seemed a lot less annoying, and yes, he had thought that of her once. In hindsight it was a very mean way of thinking about it; he had judged without really knowing her, and it was by getting to know her that he learned that all of this energy and this... this randomness was nothing more than a coping mechanism for her own insecurities. To make up for his behaviour he had started inviting her to sit with them during lunch breaks, and she had taken him up on the offer. As such she had also been invited to his birthday party.

Trunks excused himself with Neve, noting that they had been talking for quite a while longer than he would've been able to guess. He also noted that he was out of a drink, so he made to get himself a new one. Goten had helped him set up a long table on the side of the room and now it was littered with bottles, cups and bowls full of snacks. He walked over to it, perhaps not in the straight line that he was going for, but he managed well enough.

He was staring over the collection of bottles, trying to take a pick. He had downed a few wines already, but they were now beginning to grow stale on his tastebuds. He'd rather have something else, but the question was what exactly? It was an important question and he would have to choose with great care. So, what was it going to be? He had heard some good things about the passion fruit cocktail, but the chocolate liqueur was simply screaming his name. _Decisions, decisions.._.

"Hey," a voice came from his side. Trunks raised his drunk eyes to meet Goten's. His friend was also looking quite inebriated. Earlier that night he had confided in Trunks that his mother would murder him if she ever found out that he had been drinking underage. Trunks had resolved the matter by offering him a bed to sleep in for the night. After that Goten had gone somewhat crazy, drinking everything in reach.

"'Sup," Trunks replied, grabbing the bottle of liqueur and pouring himself a glass. He held out the bottle to Goten, who held up his glass as a reply. Trunks gave him his fill and the two boys turned their backs on the table, gazing out over the party unfolding.

"See, I told you it would turn out to be a fun party," Goten said, his words slurring just the littlest bit.

"Yeah, you were right," Trunks agreed. It really was a fun party. "I'm glad that you kept my ass in gear, if not I probably would've called it off at the last second."

"Pfft, like I'm going to help you be antisocial," Goten laughed.

"Ugh, you won't let me do anything," Trunks joked. "You're like my mother."

"Oh please, you don't want me to go maternal on you."

"I really think I don't."

There was a small moment of silence during which a question popped into Trunks's mind.

"Say, have you talked to Jasper yet?" Trunks waved his glass at the boy in question, who was having an apparently heated discussion with Sadie and Marron. "I mean, about what we talked about last weekend?"

Goten shook his head. "No, I haven't. I was planning to, but..."

"But what?"

"I'm pretty sure that you don't want to hear this."

Trunks shrugged his shoulders. "You can always try. Besides, you have to have someone to talk to about relationships and stuff. Someone who is not your mother or brother."

"I guess you're right," Goten admitted. "Okay look. I think for about two weeks now Jasper and I have been boyfriends. We gave it a name and we decided to get serious about... well... us. It made me really happy, you know." A drunken smile split his face in half and Trunks could not help but mirror it. "The problem is though that so far I haven't really been able to call it an actual relationship."

"Then what it is?" Trunks asked while lighting a cigarette.

Now it was Goten's turn to shrug. "Attraction, definitely. Excuse me for saying it, but do you know how goddamn hot my boyfriend is?"

"I have noticed, yes,"

"Well, case in point," Goten said. "I'm just so flustered whenever we are alone that it's not even normal anymore. It's a lot of fun, don't get me wrong, but like I said, I can hardly call it a relationship. Whenever we get some time to ourselves we just end up groping each other."

"You say that like it is a bad thing," Trunks said, taking a swig from his drink. "Is it?"

Goten contemplated this for a minute. "Yes and no, I suppose." He too took a good swallow of his beverage. "For one it is really fun. We're young and it's perfectly understandable that we can't keep our hands to ourselves. Comes with being a guy, I suppose. The problem is that both of us were so convinced that we would do well in a relationship, only now that it comes down to it, there is no relationship. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I do," Trunks said. "You don't really care that you aren't fully committed to one another, but you also don't want to pretend."

"More or less, yes," Goten said. "So there's that. And of course I tried talking to him about it, but every time I get halfway into the conversation he suddenly has his tongue down my throat and my pants are somewhere on the ceiling fan."

Trunks choked on his chocolate liqueur and needed Goten slapping him on the back to properly regain his composure. "I didn't need to know that!" he sputtered once he had gotten his breathing back under control.

"Hey, you were the one that told me to just get it off my chest," Goten pointed out. "Not to mention, you are also the one who bought all of this booze that is making my tongue loose."

"Right, sure, blame the birthday boy," Trunks said.

"Who else can I blame?"

"How about your own drunk ass?"

"Says the guy who has to grab the table for support."

"Oh, can it, you." Trunks emptied his glass and set it down on the table. "But hey, man, just so you know, you can talk to me anytime."

Goten smiled at him. "Thanks a lot, seriously. You were right, I had to get that out of my system." His eyes travelled over the party guests, lingering on Jasper. They were then enveloped in some sort of misty stare. _Poor guy_ , Trunks thought. _He really is head over heels. Too bad that it won't work out._

He had no idea where that snide and uncalled-for thought had come from, but as it repeated itself in his head, he knew that he was right. It made him feel bad for Goten. Jasper was a decent guy, but he wasn't right for Goten. He would end up hurting him one way or another. Trunks wanted to say this, but he realized that it was not his position to tell Goten what choices he made in his own relationship. No, all he could do was hear him out and stand at the sidelines. When it all went to hell he would be the first to rush to Goten's aid, but for now he could only watch and let him make his own decisions.

"Anyway," Goten said this loud enough for everyone present to hear. "I think it is about time for our birthday boy to unwrap his presents."

There was a murmur of agreement and before Trunks could blink he had been forced to sit down on the couch, a stack of gifts in front of him.

Unpacking took much longer than he would've wanted it. Marron insisted that he would unwrap her present first, which was the least surprising of all. A new controller for his console. Yay, he only had like six of those. Neve and Tito had split a present, a gigantic cardboard cutout of a standard Saiyan Soldier from BlasterSmash. Trunks smiled like a kid when he unwrapped it. It would look fantastic next to his television.

Sadie gave him a BlasterSmash themed present also. She had knitted him a scarf. Though it would be useless in the next few months to come, he could definitely see himself wearing it over the winter. She had embroidered the Royal Saiyan logo onto it, which made it freaking awesome by default. He pulled her into a hug to show his gratitude, but in hindsight he wished he hadn't. When he let go of her, her cheeks were a brilliant red. He immediately recalled what Goten had told him, about how she might have caught feelings for him. He had no desire to lead her on, especially not after such a rough breakup.

Jasper had done his best to find a proper present too, and he had done a decent job at it. He shoved a flash drive into Trunks's hands and explained shortly. "I know you and Goten always play BlasterSmash. He told me that you can upload an audio clip to your character that goes off whenever you have the last kill of the game. So here you go, Captain Underpants's very own theme song."

Trunks raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "You wrote me a theme song?"

"Well, Goten helped a lot, but yeah," Jasper said. "It's all about how awesome you are and how everyone should get on their knees and praise you as their new Saiyan overlord. Oh, and it's like three minutes long, so everyone in the lobby at the end of the game has to listen to it start to finish."

"Wow, that is fucking brilliant man!" Trunks said, clapping Jasper on the shoulder. He shot a glance towards Goten as well. "Thanks a million!"

But the gift-giving wasn't yet over, As it turned out, Goten had reasoned that his very own theme song wasn't enough of a present. He handed Trunks a large box that rattled with all kinds of items. Trunks almost ripped the box itself to shreds in his excitement.

What Goten had given him took his breath away. Inside was an enormous supply of different drawing equipment; pencils, erasers, different kinds of paper, calligraphy pens, coal, and so and so on. With this he could draw to his heart's content, trying out new materials and different styles whenever he pleased. When he lifted his head a smile covered most of his face.

"Thanks man, this is great!" Trunks said. It was hard to describe how touched he felt by the gift. Though everyone had gone through the trouble of finding him something that really fit his personality and his hobbies well, this was something else entirely. It did not build on something that was already one of his life's bigger successes, like his skills in BlasterSmash. This was something that encouraged the talents that he had yet to develop. It meant that Goten saw his potential more than he did, and that in itself was priceless.

He didn't care how awkward it would make him. Trunks dragged Goten into a bone-crushing hug, so hard that he actually heard him wheeze for breath. His smile still wouldn't fade away.

"Thank you so much, man," he said. Then he added more softly "You have no idea how much I appreciate this, seriously."

"S'all good," Goten said, returning the smile. "Just promise me that you will use them, okay?"

Trunks nodded. Oh, he would use them alright. He'd be damned if he did. And he knew just what he was going to draw as well.

* * *

Fast forward a few hours after the gift giving. More alcohol flowed as the night progressed and around midnight Goten was sure that he wouldn't be able to tell left from right. He was having a blast, though, so it didn't matter in the least. That was, if he reminded himself to drink a few glasses of water before bed, otherwise he wouldn't be feeling so on top of the world the following morning.

The one hitch in the evening had been his conversation with Trunks by the drinks table. Once he had admitted to his friend how he felt about his relationship with Jasper, he felt a strong desire to have the talk he had been planning on for a week already. The problem was that they would need their privacy. He still didn't feel completely ready to bring this news out into the world, especially not with an inebriated Marron skulking around. It would only look fishy if he were to disappear along with Jasper for who knew how long.

Another problem was that he craved for some affection from his boyfriend. Goten was feeling drunk and frisky and if it were up to him, he would drag Jasper into the next room without warning to tear all of his clothes off. That's when they circled back to the privacy issue. It made him sigh; keeping things secret was really hard sometimes.

He settled for watching Jasper from his spot on the couch, trying to do so with a bit of stealth as to not raise any suspicion. Whenever Jasper noticed this and looked back, Goten felt heat rise to his cheeks. The sight of those green eyes would make him feel flustered no matter the circumstances, but as it turned out it was much, much worse when you poured some alcohol into him. Damn his hot boyfriend and his pretty eyes.

It took a while before he realized that someone had taken a seat next to him. When he looked to the side at random, Marron was there, and she was very, very close to him. It was making him uncomfortable.

"H-Hey," He eventually managed. He scooted a little to the left to put some distance between them and he was thankful that Marron made no move to close it again.

"Hey," she parrotted. Then she hit him with a question. "Hey, would you mind coming outside with me for a bit?" She made to tug at the hem of her shirt. "It's really warm in here and I could use some fresh air."

Goten did not know how to respond. Truth to be told, he really did not want to go with her. Even before Trunks had told him about her intentions Goten had noticed the way she looked at him. Now that his suspicions had actually been confirmed, it was all the more obvious. Even in his addled state of mind he could tell that she did not want to go outside merely for the sake of cooling off.

Yet he couldn't tell her he knew that, and besides, he had been friendly with Marron up to this point, so there would be no use in going against that. So, with all of his good grace, he nodded, getting up from the couch and following her as she ventured into the kitchen where the back door would be. He caught sight of Trunks along the way, to whom he mouthed a silent 'help me!', but Trunks only looked at them in amusement.

He found Marron already outside, leaning against the wall with a cigarette clasped between her fingers. She looked at him with drunken eyes when he came to stand by her side.

Goten was at a loss for words. Nothing could make this situation any less awkward for him, nor was there anything he could do to stop it. He just prayed that Marron wouldn't try anything radical, because he simply did not have the nerve right now to tell her off.

"Goten, hey," Marron spoke up. "I wanted to tell you something."

Goten gulped. _Great, here we go._

"Y-yeah," he said, hoping that she wasn't going to say what he thought she was going to.

"I've been keeping an eye on you ever since you started school with us," Marron admitted, dancing on the balls of her feet. "I'm usually really curious about new people, but with you it's... different." She was standing in front of him now. Very closely in front of him.

Goten tried to divert his look. "Uh-huh." God, she was much too close for comfort. "Different how, exactly?"

Marron acted even more rash than he had expected her to. He had looked away for the smallest of moments and when he turned back her face was not even an inch removed from his. And of course she kissed him. Before he could protest her lips were against his. One of her arms went around his waist and she sought out his hands, fiddling with his fingers.

Goten felt like the biggest bastard alive when he did not reciprocate. There was no reason for it; he did not need to feel bad for _not_ doing anything, but he still did. Marron caught on after a few seconds. She stepped back and looked at him, the expression on her face a mixture of shock and disbelief. When he let his own eyes fall to the ground, she clapped a hand to her mouth.

"Marron, I..." Goten tried to find something to say to her, but the words would not come. How did one go about telling a pretty girl such as her that there was no attraction from his side? It would be a smack in the face either way.

"No, don't say anything," Marron said, her words turning to sobs. "It's not your fault. I know I'm annoying, okay? Trunks reminds me all the time. I just decide not to listen to him, but I suppose he was right."

"No! What?!" Goten laid his hands on her shoulders to make her look at him, but all she did was turn away. When he did not remove his hands, she walked away from him, sitting down on a bench a few yards further down the backyard. Some of the animals in the zoo-like constructions looked at her curiously. It was a strange sight, a lone girl crying on a bench, the silhouettes of lions and elephants draen against the horizon.

The backdoor opened and out stepped Jasper. The drummer looked around and spotted his boyfriend. A smile immediately erupted across his face.

"Goteeeeeen..." Jasper cooed. He was easily as drunk as Goten was, if not even more. "I've been looking for you, where were you?"

Goten did not feel like talking to Jasper just yet. He wasn't sure whether he was mad at him, because in some way this whole situation Goten was in was Jasper's fault. If he hadn't been so adamant on reeling Goten in, Marron wouldn't be crying right now.

Even so, Goten made no move to stop Jasper as he stepped behind him, wrapping both arms around his waist and kissing the top of his head. Goten was too drunk to really put up a fight. That and he still yearned for Jasper's touch, no matter his growing anger.

Goten made half a turn and kissed Jasper, pleasing his boyfriend for half a second before cutting the kiss off short. Jasper noticed this.

"Babe, is something wrong?" he asked, nuzzling Goten's hair.

Goten merely pointed in the direction of the bench. Jasper let him go without a second of hesitation once he saw Marron sitting there, sobbing into her hands.

"What's up with her?" Jasper asked this as if she had only had a hissy fit.

Goten whirled around and stared him down. His glare proved effective, for Jasper shrank back at the sight of it. "You," Goten said, poking Jasper in the chest with his index finger. "You are what's up with her." He lowered his voice. "Do you know what happened? She kissed me, that's what happened."

"No shit," Jasper said, looking stunned. "But how is that my fault?"

Goten had to take a step back at that remark. "Because of you and your stupid goddamn bet!"

"Oh..." Jasper said. His gaze travelled towards his feet and his shoulders slumped. "Oh."

"You're damn right, 'oh'," Goten bit. "What the hell did you expect would happen? Did you think that it was okay to let it all blow up in her face? Is this funny to you? Was this your idea of a fun little joke, have her make a move on the boy that she can't get just so he can step on her feelings?"

"No, Goten, I-," Jasper tried to tie a proper sentence together. "You've got this all wrong."

"Oh, so you didn't have a bet going?"

"Yes, but-"

"And it wasn't your intention to win said bet and lord it over Marron like you are the greatest thing since sliced bread?"

"Goten, please-"

"No, don't you 'Goten, please' me. I know all about this stupid fucking bet of yours. I've known so for a week, but I didn't say anything so far, because I thought that you would have the decency to at least make sure that something like this wouldn't happen. Well, I guess I learned something new today."

Jasper said nothing for a long time. All he did was stare at his feet, meanwhile managing to piss Goten off even more. He was almost looking for a fight now; the way Jasper was silently agreeing with him made him so angry that he wanted to punch that pretty boy face in.

"Goten, y-you're right," Jasper eventually said. "It was a really bad move on my part. I should've told Marron that our bet was off or something. I messed up."

"You're goddamn right, you messed up," Goten yelled so loud that he knew for sure that Marron had heard him. "And now you are going to help me fix it. Right now."

He did not give any further explanation. He just grabbed Jasper's arm and dragged him along to the bench where Marron was sitting. When she heard them approach she looked up with red and swollen eyes. Most of Goten's anger evaporated, but he was determined to hold on to some of it, if it was only for the sake of laying the beatdown on Jasper later on.

"Marron, hey," Goten said. He sank through his knees in front of her so he could look her in the eyes. She tried to turn away from him, but he wouldn't have it. He put a hand under her chin and made sure that she was looking at him before he continued.

"Hey, I want you to listen to me. You didn't do anything wrong, okay?"

"Of course I did," Marron sniffed. "I tried to kiss you even though you didn't want me to. How can that be okay to you?" She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I get it, okay! People don't like me an awful lot. It won't make any difference if you don't either."

"Marron!" Goten snapped. It got the desired effect; she looked at him with startled eyes. "I want you to listen to me, and really hear what I have to say, okay?"

She gave a small nod.

"Okay, good," he began. "Listen. Me not kissing you back has nothing, I repeat _nothing_ to do with you as a person. Nothing at all."

"I-it doesn't?"

"No," Goten said, and he actually found himself laughing. "Marron, the reason I didn't kiss you back is... well... I'm not into girls, that's all. I'm gay, Marron."

She looked at him as if he had just said that pigs could fly. "R-really?"

"Yeah, really," he reassured her. "And Jasper has something to say as well." Said boy was somewhat slow on the uptake, so Goten nudged him hard in the ribs with his elbow.

"Huh, what? Oh, right..." Jasper let out a deep sigh. "Marron, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but, well, I should've called our bet off a while ago."

She looked up at him with misty eyes. "Ah, so you've won it, huh? When do I have to treat you to dinner?"

"How about never, and how about I treat you?" Jasper proposed. "It's the least I can do after behaving like such a gigantic asshole."

Marron gave a watery laugh. "Yeah, you sure can," she said. "Fine, you can treat me to dinner, I suppose. Congratulations on winning the bet, though, you got yourself a fine new piece of ass."

"Hey now, I'm no 'piece of ass'," Goten tried to act as if he was offended, but he was laughing before he knew it. "And besides, I'm still mad at Jasper, so he won't be getting any for a while."

"Aw, really?" Jasper whined. "C'mon..."

Goten gave him a sugary sweet smile. "Well maybe you should have thought of that before you used this 'piece of ass' for your silly little wager."

Marron laughed out loud. "Ha! You know what, screw dinner, this is sooooo much better."

Goten sat down on the bench beside her and took one of her hands in his. "So, are we cool? I'd hate to have to break off our friendship over this."

She wiped away the last of her tears. "Sure we are. I'd hate that too."

"Good," Goten said. "I need a good fag hag as it is."

She laughed again, this time a true sound to it. "I take it that I can apply for the job?"

"I'd say you are the only one fit for the job."

Marron smiled. "Thanks, Goten." She then hugged him out of the blue.

He returned the gesture. When they came apart she stood up, letting a pointing finger travel between Goten and Jasper. "Say, I'm going to go inside. Goten, please don't be too hard on Jasper, alright? I know it sounds mean that he approached you over a bet, but if that had been all he cared about, he would've thrown this in my face _way_ before this."

Goten nodded. He supposed she was right. He watched her walk inside. He couldn't say for sure, but something told him that he had just made a valuable friend.

Jasper sat down beside him, silently wrapping his arms around him. Goten's anger was gone now, so he allowed it. Jasper was one lucky bastard; Goten was very bad in holding grudges. Perhaps that was why he yielded to his boyfriend's kiss so easily, or maybe it was just because he simply couldn't keep his hands away from him. For a second his mind circled back to the conversation with Trunks, about how his entire relationship with Jasper seemed to be based on physical attraction alone, but that thought was banished from his mind when Jasper's taste filled his mouth.

He drew back from the kiss after a few seconds, a smile on his face. He was glad that most of the damage control had been seen to, though he would still have to ponder some more about where his future with Jasper was headed. Not now though; he was far too distracted by Jasper's lips on his neck.

"Shouldn't we get back to the party soon?" Goten had the audacity to ask, but Jasper said all that needed to be said wordlessly when his hand disappeared behind the fabric of Goten's jeans.

"Okay, or maybe not... They can last a few minutes without us, I'm sure..."

* * *

The party was running on its last legs. Marron had gone home, stating that she should be getting some sleep if she wanted to get out of bed at all the following day. Neve and Tito had left much earlier on, since they had another party to go to somewhere downtown. Jasper and Goten were fast asleep; they had already dozed off on the couch once, so Trunks had appointed them a bed to sleep in.

The only person who was still there was Sadie, and Trunks had to admit that he was thankful for that. She had offered to help him clean up and he had taken her up on it. He was tired enough as it was, so the helping hand really managed to take off some of the workload. Besides, she was good company, so they didn't have to clean up in silence.

They had just put away the last bottles and dishes. Trunks was bent over the drinks table, rubbing furiously at some of the stains that had congealed onto the surface. Sadie was running the vacuum cleaner along the carpet to do away with the crumbs of what had been a million or so potato chips. All of this Trunks considered to be the product of a terrific night.

Not only did he have a wonderful time with his friends, he also got some awesome presents and somewhat of a new outlook on how he treated people. Call it cheesy, but he had learned life lessons and he was grateful for it. If he had to do it again tomorrow, well, he wouldn't do it again, because of hangovers, but next week... yeah, he'd definitely do it again.

The room fell silent; Sadie was done with the vacuum cleaner. Trunks was just about finished assaulting the table as well, so he tossed the rag he'd been using back into the bucket of suds. He'd put away the rest tomorrow, he was just too deadbeat to do it now.

Sadie walked over to him after clearing away the vacuum. A shy smile played her lips as she looked at him. "Hey," she said. "Thanks for a great night, I really needed that."

"Not a problem," Trunks said, returning her smile. "And thank you too for coming, I have to admit that I haven't always had the best opinion about you. I'm sorry for that, and I'm trying to change that."

Her smile widened. "Right back at you. You're not so much of a sourpuss as everyone makes you out to be." She leaned against the drinks table and parked a loose lock of her white hair behind her ear. "Say, I really appreciate that you came over last week, really. I was really broken up about Kaiden and when you and Goten showed up it was just a little too much for me. Thank you so much for sticking with me then, I don't think I can tell you how much it means to me."

"Then don't."

"Excuse me?"

"Like I said, just don't," Trunks said, giving her a reassuring look. "Sometimes it's best to not say anything. There are times where it's better to just act, or do something else to let people know you are thankful."

Sadie looked at him with weighing eyes. "You're right," she said. "You're absolutely right."

And then she was kissing him. It startled the life out of Trunks, but he made no move to stop her. She leaned against him and the coffee table behind him creaked, prompting Trunks to step away from it. Sadie gave him an uncertain look, but he took it away from her by dragging her over to the sofa.

He initiated this time, clashing against her lips and guiding her onto the couch with the gentle pressure of his hands on her shoulders. She was easy to oblige. Her hands were in his hair before he knew it. His own landed on her hips.

Sadie drew back and pressed her forehead against his. Her cheeks were red with a fiery blush. Slowly, ever so slowly, she removed her hands from his locks and put them on Trunks's own. She acted as his guide, placing one hand against her belly and putting the other just below her breasts. The look in her eyes told him that she didn't mind, that she wanted his touch. Trunks wanted to go further, lose himself in something physical. He had needed it more than he could ever realize, this closeness to another human being.

Only there was a problem.

Trunks scooted back on the sofa, stunning Sadie and leaving her with her mouth agape. He raised sorry eyes at her in the hope that she would somehow understand, even if he did not say anything, but she only looked hurt. It felt like a brick had fallen onto his stomach.

It wasn't that he didn't like Sadie. He liked her a lot, actually. Nor was there anything wrong with the way she kissed; the taste of her sweet lips was delightful, mesmerizing even. The only issue was that there was _nothing_. No feeling of desire growing in his gut, no growing of his arousal. This exchange wasn't stimulating to him. The right type of attraction just wasn't there.

He told all of this to Sadie, who was, thank the heavens, very understanding. After a while she would admit that she had acted irrationally as well, her actions fueled by a desire for closeness, much like how Trunks had felt. All of this raised a lot of questions, though. Sadie was a great help in organizing them for him.

"So," she said, biting her lower lip. There was a sense of awkwardness between them now, not because of the happenings of the night, but of the questions to come. "You don't like me 'like that'. Fine, cool. But it makes me wonder, though... what kind of girl would be able to make you feel anything for her?"

Trunks sank back into the couch and looked at her, his eyebrows lowered into a contemplative frown. Truth to be told, he'd be damned if he could tell her. His mother had asked him a similar question not too long ago and he hadn't had an answer ready then.

"I don't know," he eventually said. "I have never given it a whole lot of thought, if I'm being honest."

Sadie's eyebrows -white, to match her hair- arched. She sucked in her breath. "Ooh, okay." She gave him a fleeting look. "Sorry for asking this, but... did you ever consider that you just aren't that interested in girls?"

He had to blink at that. He had never even considered the possibility. Trunks had moved through his life without paying a whole lot of attention to the vaguer terms such as 'love' and 'happiness'. Yet, now that his mindframe was ready to deal with an issue like this one, it didn't seem all that implausible.

"I'm not really sure," he confessed to Sadie. "Maybe. I'm not a sexual deadpan, I just learned that."

Her fingers stroked the back of his hand, a knowing gesture that brought him comfort. A kindly smile was on her face when he turned to her. Well," she said, giving his hand a pat. "I think that _you_ have some thinking to do. Just so you know, whatever you discover about yourself, I'm behind you."

Trunks returned her smile. "Yeah, thanks, say that after you plunge me into an existential crisis."

Sadie laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't 'gay scare' you ever again."

"You better, Snowflake, you better."


	8. Chapter 8

**Yay! Chapter 8 is ready for you all :)! I'm getting really, really good at this updating thing. Not to mention how out of eight chapters I've written six in one sitting (meaning that I wrote six chapters in six sittings, not six in one. Holy hell, can you imagine?)**

 **Without a doubt the next one will be here for you shortly. In the meantime enjoy yourselves some Truten. We're getting closer, people. Can you feel the tension already :)?**

 **Now please read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

The birds were adding insult to injury. Trunks held a hand to his temple as he stepped through the kitchen door, nursing a throbbing headache that was the result of one hell of a night. His head was swimming and he could feel his pulse beating by his eyes. The night before had been fun. The morning after was a bitch.

Trunks sat down on the bench behind his house and lit his first cigarette of the day. Two drags in he almost tossed it away; he hadn't yet brushed his teeth, nor had he drunk a glass of water. His mouth tasted like a small mammal had decayed in there. Still, the strong and pungent lure of nicotine was too great, so he continued to pull away at the deathstick, watching as the mid morning sun crept along the horizon.

He still had some cleaning up to do. Goten had offered to help him, bless his soul. They'd clear it all away in half an hour at best, should they find the energy necessary. With everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, Trunks wasn't so certain that he would be able to pull it off.

The boy sighed and flicked the butt of his cigarette into the bushes to his left. He grabbed the box of drawing supplies that he had brought along, taking out a notepad and a handful of different pencils. He began to sketch without thinking much. The view of his backyard was pretty great, especially when it came to drawing. After some time he had lined out the cages in which the animals stood, giraffes curling their long necks towards trees to feed on the leaves and elephants blowing gallons of water through their trunks to rinse themselves. He created the clouds by drawing them on sharply, then erasing them until nothing but a grey vapor remained.

A smile twitched at his lips. Perhaps Goten had been right. Maybe he did have a knack for this.

A good twenty minutes and another cigarette later, the sun had risen and was now obstructing his view of the scenery. It annoyed him, but it was also the reminder that he had needed; he still had people and a messy house to attend to. Even so he was content to have been productive. He blew the chippings of his eraser from the paper and took a critical look at what he had just concocted.

Nothing out of the ordinary. A skyline, whoop-dee-friggin'-doo. He thought of what Goten had told him, that no true artist is ever fully pleased with their work. If that was what made him an artist then he was the best of them. The lack of detail and depth made him want to tear it up. The only consolation that he could find was that he had managed to stay away from his recurring theme. No Beaker to be found this time.

Only that wasn't the truth. Trunks had to squint to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating; he had penned down that particular tidbit without realising he had done so. A little to the right of the drawing, where he had portrayed the petting zoo, Trunks had drawn a human figure, tall and lanky, with a head of hair that was impossible to not recognize.

It was just as a few weeks before. Trunks had then felt, for no clear reason at all, compelled to draw Goten. It hadn't been a question, nor had it registered in his mind as strange. It just _was_. And now Goten was featured in his art again, this time not playing his trusty guitar, but feeding the goats or the sheep or whatever the little four-legged creatures were supposed to represent.

His mind travelled back to the night before. Sadie had been good at peeling away the layers of this thoughts, to the point where it was almost terrifying. Maybe it was like she had said. Maybe he wasn't so interested in girls.

He was frowning at his drawing. Freaking great. Just what anyone wants to get for their eighteenth birthday: an existential crisis. Then again, if Sadie had been smart enough to help him specify his feelings, there was a chance that she could help him gain complete clarity. He'd have to ask her to hang out soon. It should be fun either way.

The backdoor opened and Goten walked outside. Trunks stuffed his notepad and pencils away before Goten had gotten a proper chance to rub the remainder of sleep from his eyes, so there wasn't a need for awkward explanations.

Goten too had a hand pressed to the side of his head. Not strange, considering how the two of them had annihilated most of the alcohol they could get their hands on.

"Morning," he said while stifling a yawn. Trunks waved at him in response.

Goten sat down on the bench beside him, keeping silent. It unnerved Trunks a little. He wanted to make conversation, but he was mortified at the idea of letting something slip. It was much, much too early to convey his suspicions to Goten, even if he was his best friend. Had it just been the sexuality thing, then fine. He would let that on before the weekend was over, he was sure. But he couldn't go around telling people that he might be harboring a crush on his best friend. That was a one way ticket to embarrassment.

"I cleaned up most of the stuff, by the way," Goten said as he stretched his arms above his head. "All you have to do now is run a rag over the table and you'll be done."

"Oh shit, really?" Trunks asked incredulously. "Thanks man, I appreciate it."

"Eh, I saw you were busy drawing, so I decided to let you be," Goten told him. Trunks's heart dropped into his stomach, but the nervosity evaporated like snow on a sunny day when Goten added "Don't worry, you don't have to show me this time. I know you hate it when I ask that."

Trunks gave an appreciative nod and went back to staring along the horizon. He really, really hoped that he was wrong about this infatuation of his. A part of him resisted admitting to it in every way. As if the confirmation would only suffice to make the thing itself worse. If he could say to himself that yes, he did have a crush on Goten, then his insides would begin to swarm like butterflies the very next time he laid eyes on him. It was madness, of course, but still.

To be fair, perhaps he should've caught on a lot sooner. This was one of the things that you learned in hindsight. Trunks had never questioned before how their friendship could be this natural, so incredibly easy to maintain. The gods of irony were laughing at him; of course there had to have been more to it. They were laughing even harder over the fact that said object of affection was in a grope-and-grind relationship with the hottest guy in school.

"So you enjoyed the party?" Trunks asked to puncture the quiet. He couldn't stand being alone with his thoughts much longer.

"Yeah, it was great," Goten said, a smile appearing on his face. "Something did happen though. I had meant to tell you yesterday, but it must have slipped my mind at some point."

Trunks raised his eyebrows. "Can I get a drumroll?"

"The only roll you can get is a roll of the eyes, smartass," Goten said, laughing. Then his face fell into something more serious. "Marron kissed me."

This wasn't so surprising; Jasper wasn't the kind of guy to let Marron know that the bet was off, and Marron was bold enough to try something like that in any situation, let alone with enough alcohol in her system.

"Shit man, and then what?" Trunks asked, desperate to know whether or not it had turned into a major fiasco.

"I had to tell her the truth, of course," Goten explained. "I told her that I'm not into girls. But not before I got into a fight with Jasper."

Trunks's eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hair. "You had a fight? The perfectly lovey-dovies?"

Goten nodded. "Uh-huh. As it turned out he had not even considered telling Marron that their stupid little bet was over with. She was crushed when I turned her down and when Jasper saw it he had the nerve to ask 'what was up with her'. So I yelled at him for a good five minutes before I made up with Marron."

Trunks did not want to admit to himself that hearing this pleased him to no end. The side of his brain that conjured up the great little defense mechanism called denial reasoned that it was because of Marron being 'put in her place', so to speak. Denial then told him that no, he hadn't been warming up to Marron at all the past few months. No, not even a little bit.

"So you guys are good now?" Trunks asked.

"I suppose, though I still don't know for sure what it is between us. I really hope that it's more than just superficial attraction."

"And you have every right to," Trunks said, swallowing the bile that wanted to come up along with the words. "Just try not to linger on it too much. That's bad for you, man."

Goten sighed and gave a nod. "I guess you're right. I'll have a talk with him soon."

Trunks lit his third cigarette of the day. As the smoke curled and contorted in his lungs, he fell back into his prior train of thought. Maybe it was best to tell Goten, sooner rather than later. If there was anyone who would understand, it was him.

"I also got kissed," he admitted, rolling his filter between his fingers. "Sadie kissed me after everyone went to bed."

Goten could be such a queen sometimes. When Trunks turned to him, Goten had his mouth open into a perfect oval shape. "Really?" he almost shouted. "You're kidding me."

"Nope," Trunks said. "It's all true."

"...And?"

"And what?"

"And are you guys... you know... involved now?" Goten asked, his dark eyes sparkling at the bit of gossip thrown his way. His face fell when Trunks shook his head.

"It's a bit of a hard story to tell, actually," Trunks said, thinking that he might get cold feet after all.

"Ah, come on," Goten almost whined. "You can tell me, no problem."

Trunks clacked his tongue, thinking hard. Eventually there was nothing left to do but cave in.

"Okay, I'll tell you, but this needs to stay between us for the time being. The only other person who knows is Sadie." Trunks took a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it away. "So Sadie kissed me when we were alone. At first I didn't mind and I kissed her back. All was good and well, until all of a sudden she takes my hands and puts them right... here." he placed his own hands just below his pectorals.

"Holy shit,' Goten breathed. "I knew she was frank, but that is something else."

Trunks nodded. "Anyway, just like that I don't know what the hell is going on anymore. I mean, Sadie is a really, really pretty girl, right?"

"Right."

"And any guy should be happy to get to touch her like that, right?"

"Uh-huh..."

"But when I got to thinking about it, I realized that I didn't feel anything. I didn't feel anything at all."

Goten's eyebrows lowered into a puzzled frown. "Sorry, but I don't really understand what you mean."

Trunks sighed. "Well, normally a guy should feel very happy to be able to do something like that, you know, all jolly below the belt. The only problem was that nothing happened. I felt nothing."

Goten held silent for a little while, then gave a slow nod of understanding. Instead of summarizing what he had just learned, he posed another question.

"So what would you say it means?"

"I'm not sure," Trunks admitted. "Sadie and I talked about it for a while. I can't say it for certain, but maybe I'm not... i-into girls." Speaking the words was much more difficult than just thinking them.

When he looked at Goten to await judgement, his friend was smiling at him.

"Well that could've been a lot worse," Goten said. "Okay, so you might be gay, who cares?"

"What the hell else could it have been?"

"I dunno, you seem like the kind of guy to dig girls wearing clown makeup. Or maybe you can only get your rocks off when girls who impersonate llama's during the do."

Trunks sent a glare his way, but ended up laughing. Once he had gotten his breathing under control he felt the need to ask. "But how will I know for sure, though?"

Goten shrugged. "You try out some stuff. Meet some new people, kiss some new lips. It's really easy to know. It might be confusing now, but there will come a moment where it is just as clear as day, and there will be no denying it. Until then you should just live life as it is."

Trunks looked at his feet, then up at Goten. "Damn, man, did anyone ever tell you that you are much too old and wise for your age?"

"No, but I'd love to hear it some more. By all means, please lather me up with your compliments."

* * *

"Okay. guys. We have a big issue on our hands."

Nanahara, the band's rhythm guitarist, had the most serious look on his face that Goten had ever seen. It was kind of discombobulating; Nanahara entered every room with a smile.

"Oh, please, do tell." The bass player, Nikki, a boy of only fourteen but a head taller than Goten, loved to pester Nanahara. Killing moods was one of his favourite pastimes.

"For the record, shit-for-brains," Nanahara bit. "As you guys may well know, we have our first gig next Friday."

Jasper nodded. "And?"

"And?!" Nanahara parroted. "In case you didn't notice, we still don't have a band name. Can you imagine what it will be like? 'And now for the next act... eh... these guys! Give it up'."

"So you're saying we need a name," Goten correctly pointed out.

"You're goddamn right, we need a name!" Nanahara shouted. "Or else we can just never come here again, if that's what you'd like." He gestured around the practice room and all the equipment in it.

"Oh Nana, please don't get you panties in a twist," Nikki said. "We'll figure something out. Anyone got any ideas?"

Silence.

"Well then," Goten broke through the quiet. "Any subjects that relate to us? Something that will help us along the way?"

Jasper twiddled a drumstick between his fingers, his face contorted in concentration. "Well we do play a lot of songs about heartbreak and sadness. Maybe we can build on that?"

"Good, that's something at least." Nanahara was now pacing up and down the room. "Damn, I need to give the guy at the Innocent a name to call out. If I don't he'll cancel us for sure."

"Okay, so we got heartbreak," Nikki said, raising a first finger. "And we play the blues. C'mon, it shouldn't be this hard."

Silence once more.

Goten racked his brains for any useful name that he could think of, but nothing came to him. After a while it became annoying, so he began to fiddle with Banshee's strings in order to seek out distraction. She was still plugged in, so she spewed random cords through the room, playing a march that had no discernable rhythm.

"Goten..."

 _E, C, G, D, E, C, G..._

"Goten."

 _Heavy E, D, D, C,C, E..._

"Goten!"

He was roughly pulled from his musings. "What!" he shouted in return. He gave Banshee one final strum, but this one proved to be too aggressive. Her heavy E-string snapped and flung into the air, wiggling and writhing as the tension was released from it.

Goten cursed and looked up, hoping to come eye to eye with whoever had the nerve to make him hurt his baby. Nanahara. Of course. He should've been able to guess.

"What?" Goten asked, this time a little less peeved.

"You're not helping."

"Well sorry that I can't pluck good ideas out of the air," Goten snapped. "Besides, I couldn't give less of a crap about a band name now. _You_ made me break Banshee's string, so I have other prio-" The idea came to him so fast that it almost gave him a headache.

"I've got it," he murmured. "The name for the band. I've got it."

"And could you be so kind to share it with us?" Jasper asked. He still hadn't stopped twirling his drumstick.

"The Broken Heartstrings," Goten said. "It's blues, it's sad, the whole shebang."

Nanahara looked as if he might jump out of his skin. "That's it!" he smacked a fist into his palm. "Everyone agree?"

Jasper and Nikki nodded their consent.

"Good. I'll call the guy from Inno right away. Great rehearsal, guys. Let's hope we do even better next week,. If so, we'll crush that gig, just watch."

And with that rehearsals were over. Nikki and Nanahara were gone in a flash, but Jasper needed some more time to collect his things. Goten lingered behind. He still hadn't gotten around to having his talk with Jasper. He figured that he might as well do it now, or else he would procrastinate it until he got sick of it, or until it all blew up in his face.

He watched for a little while as Jasper stood bent over his drum kit to detach the cymbals and the kick pedal. Damn it, he would be giving up something great...

Over the past two weeks, ever since his talk with Trunks and ever since Marron had kissed him, Goten had been contemplating this issue very hard. After thinking it over again and again and again and again, he had been forced to admit to himself the very thing that he had feared.

He didn't have any feelings for Jasper other than rough attraction and friendship.

The little voice of reason that resided in the back of his head told him that the wise thing would be to break it off. There was no need to cling to something that didn't actually exist. In his heart it felt painful. So what if there hadn't been any real love between them? They still had their fair share of fun. Giving it up was a pity and there was no shame in admitting that.

"What's the matter?" Jasper startled the life out of him. Goten had been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed that Jasper was done packing up. His soon-to-be ex-boyfriend was now standing behind him. It always gave Goten shivers when Jasper wrapped his arms around him, and even with a goal in mind, Goten could not do anything to stop Jasper from performing the action.

"It's... I..." Goten let a sigh escape him. "I think we need to talk."

"Uh, okay," Jasper said, letting go of him. Jasper sat down on the stool that would normally be placed behind his drum kit. "So, what gives?"

Goten had to inhale and exhale again before he could get the words over his lips. "I don't think we're working out, Jasper."

Jasper blinked at him, then dropped his eyes. He surprised Goten by smiling. "So do you want me to kick up a fit now?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know," Jasper said. "Should I get angry? Do you want me to break down into tears? Curse your name? Plead you not to do this?"

"...Sorry?"

Jasper gave a chuckle. "I think I understand. Or I try to, at least. I guess that you want to break things off because we haven't really been in a relationship all along."

Goten had to keep his jaw from dropping. "So you noticed it too?"

"Of course I did, why so surprised?" Jasper shrugged his shoulders. "To tell you the truth, I think I noticed it about a month ago already. We don't do any of the things boyfriends do, you know. We don't go on dates, we don't have long conversations until the dead of night. We don't talk about our future together."

"...Right," Goten said. "That's what I thought also. We're more... how should we call it..."

"Fuck buddies?"

"That's a very rough way of naming it, but yeah." Goten sat down beside Jasper and took his hand. "I mean, it has been a lot of fun and I don't regret any of it, but if I'm going to have a boyfriend, I want to have an actual relationship, not just someone to grope whenever I feel like it."

Jasper smiled at him. "I understand. I'm glad that you spoke up about it, I don't think I could've done it."

This raised a question on Goten's end. "But... but if you knew this for yourself, why didn't you do anything about it? I never noticed you felt the same until now."

Jasper shrugged again. "I dunno. Can you blame me for not wanting the fun to end?"

Goten had no reply ready for that. "...Fair enough."

"Right?" Jasper said. "Look. Goten, I consider you a great friend, an amazing bandmate and one hell of a way to pass the time. But just like you said, there's just no relationship here." He gestured between them for emphasis. "Still, I can't deny that I am really, really into you. Like a lot."

"That sounds about right, yeah."

"So I just couldn't cut it off like that," Jasper admitted. "I was still having too much fun. To tell you the truth, I don't want the fun to end right now either."

Goten felt some warmth rising to his cheeks. Surely he wasn't proposing...

"If it were up to me, we'd just let this go on until one of us does find the fulfillment they're looking for. There's really no need to stop any of this, except for the part where we are boyfriends."

Okay, so he was proposing that. Goten's face flared scarlet. "O-okay, right. Okay. Well then."

"Sorry," Jasper said, breaking into a fit of giggles. "I didn't mean to drop it on you like that. You can think about it if you want to, I don't mind, whatever you happen to decide."

But if that was the case then the choice was easy enough. He didn't even have to think about it. He kissed Jasper without a proper warning, but Jasper was prepared.

Screw conventional relationships. Friends with benefits could work out as well.

At least he hoped so; he would need to distance himself from Jasper a little bit more, take some time apart from each other. That might keep whatever was going on between them fresh and exciting. And if one of them did stumble into a new relationship, things would just have to end. Easy as that.

* * *

Just as Goten and Jasper were busy ripping clothes from bodies, on the other side of the city a doorbell rang. Trunks heard it from his room and hollered for either of his parents to open it; the person on the other side was quite insistent on being let in. When neither of them made their presences known -they were likely running amuck around the house and much too busy to hear the doorbell-, Trunks grumbled and went to open the door himself.

He didn't expect to see Sadie on the other side. The girl was almost jumping on her feet when Trunks came into frame. She looked like Sadie alright, that hyperactive creature that he came to know her as, not the sullen mess that she had been for a little while.

Her appearance expressed her happiness most of all. She had coloured her hair a very violent purple. It was nothing like his own, a soft violet kind of shade, but it was a dark hue with an almost black shine to it. She looked freaking amazing. Tiny twin braids ran from her forehead to the back of her head, which aided in holding together the ringlets that reached until halfway across her back.

"Hey, Sadie," Trunks said, still taken aback by the sudden appearance. "I thought you weren't supposed to come over until this weekend. Is everything alright?"

"I'm perfect, actually," she beamed. "No, I came over because I'm pretty sure that I can help you out. Like, with your problem, I mean. The one we talked about at the party."

"Oh, right, that." Trunks sighed and stepped aside. He didn't need to ask her if she wanted to come in, because she was halfway down the hall before he could close the front door.

"So have you given it any thought?" Sadie asked, grabbing Trunks by the wrist and marching up the stairs. Once having reached the first floor she began to barge along the length of the hall, checking for open doors or any sign that would tell her that she had just stumbled upon Trunks's bedroom.

"Uh, I have, a little bit," Trunks said, scared of this sudden enthusiasm. "Love the new hair, by the way."

"Thanks!" Sadie chimed. "And don't change the subject. I know you've been doing some thinking. I was talking about it with Goten just this afternoon. Anyway I came up with a way to help you. Goten said that it might not work, but I'm pretty sure it will. Those are some killer chandeliers, on a side note. Anyway, I think I see your room. Let's go, c'mon!"

She pulled him into his bedroom and threw the door shut behind her. Trunks was at a loss for words. Frankly, he didn't know what topic to start with. How his two friends deemed it fit to discuss his sexual preferences without him there was a pretty good subject, but he was also slightly terrified to find out what Sadie had in store for him. So he did what he was good at doing, keeping his mouth shut.

Sadie paced around the room once to take everything in. She halted for a minute at his gaming system, giving an appreciative whistle, then clapped her hands enthusiastically and turned to Trunks.

"Does your door have a lock?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Can your bedroom door be locked?" Sadie asked again. When Trunks nodded she said "Good, cause we're going to need a bit of privacy."

Trunks gulped.

"Oh, don't worry," Sadie waved his concerns away while locking the door. "I'm not going to hurt you. I think."

"Well that's a comfort."

"Shut up and sit down." she gestured towards his bed. Trunks did as he was told and watched as Sadie slung her backpack off her shoulder. She fumbled inside and retrieved what looked like an ordinary dish towel. Trunks could only gape at her as she began to fold it up into a rectangle.

"What the hell are you planning on?" he asked, eyebrows high in the air.

"Shhhh... It's best to not ask questions," Sadie said. A grin broke out across her face and Trunks felt his stomach drop a good foot or two. She approached him with the dish towel held high. Trunks raised his hands, planning to defend himself, but Sadie came prepared. Before he had the time to blink she was holding a pair of scissors. She snipped them for emphasis. "Don't move, or the Saiyan gets it."

"You wouldn't."

Sadie snipped the scissors again. "Try me."

Trunks was forced to relent, but he did so with as much grumbling and cursing as his vocabulary allowed. He sat still like a good boy while Sadie blindfolded him. Only when she was sure that he couldn't see a single thing did she explain her motive.

"Okay, so I want to try a little experiment. Don't freak out. I'm going to tell you a story now and I want you to listen to me very, very closely. Do you think you can do that?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," Trunks said. "But I don't see what this has to do with me being gay or not."

"You will, in a minute," Sadie replied. He heard her shuffling around on his bed. "Oh, and also, some things might happen that will give you the idea that you are being sexually assaulted, but don't mind it."

"Come again?"

"Shhhhh..." Sadie placed a hand against his mouth to keep him quiet. "It's story time now."

Sadie cleared her throat. "Okay, so the first thing I want you to do is clear your mind. Don't think of anything but the sound of my voice and the words that I speak.

"Now I want you to use your imagination. Think of a woman. Make her the absolute prettiest, most drop dead bombshell that you can think of. Got her in mind? Good. Now just imagine her walking in front of you, wearing little but short shorts and a nice tube top two sizes too small. She's here in your room with you. She leans her palms onto the bed and she crawls on. She gets nice and close to you. You can feel her warm breath on your lips. She's waiting for a kiss, she wants nothing but to be with you. How does that make you feel?"

Trunks thought about this. Truth to be told, the idea didn't really appeal to him. He was able to conjure up the mental image that Sadie wanted him to, but it didn't rouse him in the least. He was about to tell her this when he felt a hand land onto his groin.

He started like he had been struck by a lighting bolt. He reached for the blindfold, but Sadie stopped him by grabbing him by his wrists.

"Take it easy, chill out," she told him. "Don't worry, it's fine."

"Like hell it is!" he sputtered. "It's not okay to grope me like that!"

"Hey, I warned you beforehand."

"You weren't this specific!"

"Maybe, but if I had been, I wouldn't have been able to gauge your reaction to my story, now wouldn't I?"

That silenced him for a bit, but his protests hadn't died away completely. "And what the hell was the point of feeling me up like that?"

He heard Sadie chuckle. "Well, now I know for a fact that you're not into girls. Nothing going on down there, I can tell you that much."

Trunks swore that she knew that he was rolling his eyes, because she began to laugh harder.

"So this is what you meant by sexually assaulting me."

"Like I said, I warned you."

"Okay, and now what?" Trunks asked. "I don't like girls, hurrah, such bliss. Girls are yucky, I think I get the point."

"Now it's time to change up the situation," Sadie chimed. Trunks had to swallow some of his nervosity at the sound of her cheerfulness. This wasn't going to be pretty.

"Okay, so instead of a totally hot girl in your room, can you imagine... Jasper being here?"

Trunks gave a miniscule nod.

"Okay. Now this might get a little weird, but bear with me. Just think of Jasper lying across your bed, no shirt on him. You can take away the pants if you prefer. He's just waiting for you to come and join him, you can see it in his devilish little smile. Can you picture it?"

Trunks swallowed hard. Very, very unwillingly, his groin gave a twitch.

"Did you know that Jasper has a tattoo?" Sadie asked. When Trunks shook his head, she added "And a nice one too. It's the title of a song by Etta James, in nice, curly, loopy letters. Can you guess where he has it?"

Trunks shook his head again.

"Just above his belly button," Sadie said. Trunks could hear the smirk in her voice. "So, do I need to feel you out again?"

Trunks felt her weight shift on his bed. He rose from it in a flash and he had undone the blindfold even before she got another chance to move. He was breathing hard, he realized. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, suddenly aware of how warm he was feeling.

"I'm going to take that as a 'no'," Sadie said. "Well there you have it."

"Have what?"

Sadie sighed and rose from the bed. She took the blindfold from Trunks's grasp and put it back into her backpack. "You're gay, my friend. Gay with a hunger for sweet, sexy drummers."

Trunks jumped to his defense. "No, no I'm not!"

So you're not gay?"

"Well... yeah, but..."

"But what?"

"I don't have a 'hunger for Jasper'," Trunks huffed. "He's good looking, but that's about it. Drummers are overrated."

A light went on behind Sadie's eyes. A smirk split her face open. "Okay, no drummers. I get it. But maybe, just maybe, you have a preference for guitarists?"

Trunks wanted to curse himself, curse the world, curse everything in existence. His face was lighting up like a forest fire. He couldn't help it; before he had the chance to hide it his cheeks were a deep scarlet.

"I-I, You... I," the only thing that left his lips was a confused stammer. How the hell did this afternoon turn out like this?

Sadie smiled at him again, though this time it was sincere. She stood in front of him to face him, raising his chin when he tried to look away.

"Trunks," Sadie said, making sure that he was hearing her. "It's nothing to be ashamed about. Really. I actually think it's kind of sweet."

He let out a sigh and dropped his shoulders. "I know, I know," he said. "And I'm not ashamed."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know, hopelessness, maybe. You saw how I reacted when you talked about Jasper. Well Goten feels exactly the same way. The difference is that he actually _has_ Jasper."

"Not for long, though," Sadie pointed out. "You know how he feels about that."

Trunks gave a sullen nod. "I want to show you something." He walked over to his box of drawing supplies, which he now kept next to his desk. He took out the notepad and flipped it open. He showed Sadie the first page and let the rest slide to his fingers to indicate that there was more.

Sadie looked through the drawings one by one. As the pages progressed her expression became more and more dumbfounded. Goten by the petting zoo. Goten feeding the ducks by the pond. Goten playing Banshee. Goten sitting against a tree during recess. Goten simply smiling at an invisible camera. There were dozens more.

When Sadie was done rifling through the pages she handed the notebook back. She looked as though she didn't know what to say.

"That bad, huh?" she eventually said.

"Uh-huh," Trunks replied. "That bad."

That lit a fire under her ass, it seemed. "Okay then. I guess I have a mission now."

"Sorry?"

"You heard me. I have a mission now. I will set you up with Goten, or I will die trying."

"Oh, Sadie, you don't h-"

"Oh yes I do. They don't call me Doctor Love for no reason."

"They don't call you Doctor Love at all."

"Shut up."

Trunks rolled his eyes. "You know what, fine. But just so you know, I refuse to credit you by that title."

"Fine, The Great Goddess of Matchmaking. Whatever floats your boat."

* * *

The first gig of the Broken Heartstrings had been a success. Not that it was a spectacle, with the only audience being Gohan, his mother, Trunks, Bulma, Sadie, and Neve, but it was a success nonetheless. Being on that stage, playing and singing his heart out, had taught Goten something he had already known deep inside for a very long time.

He was born to be on the stage.

Now, two weeks later, he was still glowing with happiness.

Gohan and Videl were over for dinner tonight and Videl wasted no time in questioning about his performance. She hadn't been able to make it because Pan had been sick in bed, but she had made up for it by asking him so many questions that he felt his tongue grow pimp from all the talking he had been doing. Gohan listened politely, having heard the story several times already. Chi-Chi did her very best to get Pan's attention, but the little girl was far too busy with clapping at every other sentence Goten spoke. He had a groupie now. Cool!

"You really should've seen him, Videl," Gohan said, gesturing at Goten with a fork full of pulled beef. "It was like he's been in the trade for seventy years already."

"Really?" Videl asked, taking small bites of her dinner while stealing glances at Pan, who was more interested in playing with her food than eating it. "And how is the rest of your band then? Are they nice?"

Goten nodded. "Oh yeah, totally. Nikki is even younger than I am, but he doesn't miss a beat. Nanahara says he's made to play rhythm, but I think I can goad him to play the lead a few times. Maybe we can switch it up a little sometime. And Jasper..."

He hadn't meant to fall silent, but Jasper was too much of a continuous presence in his mind. When the two of them had decided that it would be best of them to separate, but not really separate, Goten had believed that they would either drift apart or that they would go overboard. Neither of those things happened. Everything went exactly as he had planned it. The saw each other a little less, maybe once or twice a week instead of every single day. And they were learning to keep their hands to themselves, hard as it could be at times, and yes, pun intended.

If anything, Goten had worried that their changed chemistry would come forward in their music, but it hadn't. They had been absolutely in sync on stage, as if they had been doing the same thing for years. It had been perfection.

"Jasper is a little quirky sometimes," Goten eventually said. "But he's amazing." A smile split his face apart. Videl arched an eyebrow at him, and he smiled wider. She gave a little nod of understanding and returned the gesture.

Chi-Chi was absolutely oblivious. "Now that you mention him," she said. "It has been a while since I last saw him here. Did something happen between the two of you?"

Goten couldn't help himself. He began to laugh, but he was quickly halted by the bit of carrot that lodged itself in his throat. Gohan helped him by clapping him in the back. Even Pan helped in her way, jumping out of her chair and making sure that he wasn't suffocating.

After a while he could breathe again, but that did nothing to soothe his laughter. He was almost literally howling, putting his face on the tabletop and just letting it all out. Chi-Chi looked at him as if he were the world's greatest illusionist. This made him laugh even harder in turn.

"I feel like I'm missing something here..." Chi-Chi said. "Does anyone care to fill me in, please?"

This caused Videl and Gohan to chortle into their fists. Chi-Chi wouldn't have it.

"Seriously, I don't like this one bit. Someone tell me what is going on right now!"

This as the trigger that made all hell break loose. Gohan was laughing, Videl was laughing, Goten was still sucking in breath in large gulps. Tears were streaming from his eyes and his face was turning red. Pan, who had no idea what was happening either, was amused simply because her parents were, the little girl giggling and kicking her feet in glee.

Goten raised his head to meet Chi-Chi's eyes. He was still not done just yet, but he had managed to regain his composure enough to speak at least. Now there was no way out. He had to tell her.

Fuck it. She had to find out sooner or later.

"Well," Goten said, wiping the final tears away. "He was my boyfriend, and now he's not."

Chi-Chi blinked at him. Gohan chortled again and raised three fingers. Then two. Then one.

Chi-Chi shrieked. Loudly.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! A review would be appreciated, so if you can find some spare time to leave me with your thoughts, that would be fantastic :)**

 **Until the next one!**


	9. Chapter 9

**And chapter 9 is here! This is where it starts to get really fun ;)**

 **I have taken an artistic liberty in this chapter. Goten's birthday is mentioned, but it isn't on the correct date. Right now the story is moving through July, though Goten's birthday is in February. I changed this because it was convenient and because I wanted to. So don't come to me with all of your facts and statisitcs, I know what I'm doing :)**

 **Now please read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

Time was a strange thing. Goten could swear that he had only started school in South City two weeks ago. The calendar told him otherwise; the end of July was coming on strong, which meant that he had spent his first entire semester in a public school.

The summer holidays were just around the corner. The days at South City high were becoming less stressed, the teachers were becoming more lenient, and the amount of homework that they had to see to was diminished significantly. Goten couldn't complain. While he liked school, he too felt like vacation was due. It would mean that he could spend his days writing and making music and playing BlasterSmash. Without interruption, that was.

Now he just had to live with the fact that he had a curfew. Not that he heeded it a whole awful lot.

"Right corner, behind the door," Goten muttered as his eyes followed BansheeBlues. The sound of explosions told him that Trunks had managed to land a perfect shot. The clock on the wall was ticking away without either of them noticing it. Midnight was creeping in fast.

Hanging out with Trunks had become a rather solid part of his routine. At least two or three times a week they would come together, whether to play BlasterSmash or not. Some afternoons they would spend by Beaker's pond, Goten scribbling away at notes for his story and Trunks drawing whatever the guy drew these days. Goten hadn't raised the point with his friend, but something told him that Trunks was still caught up in sketching _him_. He would feel the boy's fleeting stares in the back of his head, as if Trunks was trying to decipher the tangles of his hair, read his body language.

It was flattering in a strange way. Not to mention that Trunks had managed to sneak his way into Goten's creative outlets as well.

Just last week he had been busy telling the tale of Hugo, the boy from his novel who stepped through a mirror to find everything going backwards. Hugo had been confused for a majority of the story; he could not follow this strange world where everything was inverted, from people speaking to the numbers on the alarm clock by his bedside. But one day, as Hugo contemplates his existence as well as a possibility of returning to his old life, he sees a boy walking in the opposite direction of everyone else. He's going against the stream. Hugo has no idea who this boy is, but he can spot him from a mile away.

Because this enigmatic boy has purple hair.

How freaking obvious do you have to be?

Goten contemplated all of this as he threw grenades in the game, no longer really seeing what he was doing. The whole matter had taken up a lot of his thoughts for a few days. He had been forced to ask himself why the boy sitting next to him right now kept appearing in his subconscious. The question could be spelled out easily and Goten had no desire to ignore it and pretend it had never existed to begin with.

It did suck like hell, though. So he was developing a new crush. Great. Bloody fantastic. He mused to himself that he was as hormonal as your average teenage girl who wrote the name of another celebrity along the lines of her notebook every month. First there had been Jasper, though that had turned out to be little more than pure physical attraction. Some people were just made to lust after, even though there was very little to go on in terms of emotional satisfaction. Not that his escapades with Jasper hadn't been fun. Quite on the contrary, he loved being able to still seek solace in Jasper when he wanted to. He was young and spirited, so it was almost to be expected.

Yet now that he was beginning to harbor a growing infatuation with his best friend, it seemed a lot less appealing. He would have to let Jasper know that their frisky business would have to end soon. It was a pity, but it had to be done. And it wasn't even the hardest part of it all.

Goten stole a glance to the side to see Trunks hunched over forward, his tongue clamped between his lips and his face contorted in concentration. Just the sight alone made Goten smile. No, the hardest thing was that Trunks was his _best friend_. It almost felt like a violation of their bond just thinking of Trunks in a romantic sort of way. One slip up could bring a lot of pain and misunderstandings between them, something that Goten had no desire in causing.

"Got it! Yes!" Trunks shouted in glee and tossed the controller onto the table in front of them. Goten had hardly noticed that they had won their so manieth consecutive match of the day. His mind was working overtime. It was playing out scenarios, working out dialogues that would never happen in real life.

When he thought about it, thought about it long and hard, the whole idea wasn't so unrealistic. It was perfectly possible for him and Trunks to end up in a relationship together. Around the time that Goten had allowed his mother to find out that he was playing for the other team, Trunks had done some figuring out for himself. Goten had gotten the full report from Sadie and it had him reduced to tears of laughter. The girl's brash approach had managed to make Trunks see reason. Now, slowly but surely, Trunks was getting into an 'out and proud' state of mind. He was still a long way of screaming to the heavens that he liked fucking boys, but at least he now knew what he was all about.

Goten enjoyed getting a rise out of him with it.

He'd suddenly shove his phone under Trunks's nose, showing him photos of models or actors or musicians that were, so to say, appealing to the eye. It was very, very amusing to see Trunks try and keep his composure, for he had never really admitted to liking a man for his looks. It would come though. And maybe then would they be able to admit other things to one another, things of a much more private nature.

Until then Goten could only wait and see. He despised waiting.

"I don't know about you, but I think I've played enough for today." Trunks's voice snapped him from his musings. Goten looked up and gave a nod of agreement. He watched as his friend turned off the gaming system and retrieved his drawing materials from beside his desk. Once settled in, Trunks's eyes immediately moved to Goten, before he began to scratch at the paper in a dull and uneven rhythm.

"Still haven't run out of the stuff I got you?" Goten asked to break the silence. Trunks's eyes on him were a bit unnerving when he otherwise kept silent.

"Uh-huh," Trunks said, his tongue back between his teeth. Suddenly his pencil stopped and his eyes widened.

"I totally forgot to ask..." he breathed to himself.

Goten raised his eyebrows. "Ask what?"

"You have a birthday to, I can only assume." Trunks said, twisting his pencil between his fingers in a manner that was reminiscent of the way Jasper handled drumsticks. "I was wondering when it was."

"Well I'm turning seventeen in less than four weeks, if that is what you're asking," Goten said. He then shrugged his shoulders. "I don't have any plans, though. I haven't really celebrated my birthday the past two years."

Trunks pursed his lips. "Hmm. Well I can understand not celebrating, but why not for the past two years?"

A sad sort of smile tugged at his lips. "Because my dad died the day after I turned fourteen." There was nothing happy about it, but still it felt comforting in a way. He would rather spend the day thinking of his father than of himself as it was. He didn't feel like he was missing out on anything.

Trunks sucked in air between his teeth. "Oh damn, man, sorry. I didn't mean to bring up anything bad."

"It's not your fault," Goten said, smiling at him. "You had no way of knowing."

"Okay, but you understand that I can't let you off the hook?"

Goten blinked. "Excuse me?"

Now Trunks was smiling as well. He had even stopped twiddling his pencil. "Well I'm obviously going to make sure that you have the greatest birthday ever. I'll have to repay the favour, of course."

"Oh no, please don't." Goten shook his head. "I prefer to take the day to remember my Dad. I don't mind not getting any of the attention."

"Well we can do that too," Trunks said. "I'll find us a way to do both. But mark my words, I will make sure that your birthday will be about you too."

Goten wanted to protest this point more, but Trunks had risen from the sofa and he had retrieved his phone. He was already talking even before Goten got a chance to say anything.

"Hello, Sadie?" Trunks spoke into the phone. "Yeah, it's me. I'm going to need your advice on some things. Uh-huh. Yeah. Goten's birthday is coming up. Uh-huh. Yeah, I know, it's a great opportunity. Yes, I''ll try. No, I will not call you that. Nor will it call you the Captain. Okay, thanks!" Then he hung up.

Trunks looked at him with a smirk. "And the plans have been set in motion."

Goten rolled his eyes. Okay, why the hell not. Let him try if he wanted to. If Trunks could make Goten forget about that unpleasant period in his life, he would kiss him on the spot.

Probably.

* * *

Bulma's eyes had always been so searching, so prying, so desperate to peel away your secrets. Trunks could feel their stare in the back of his head as he sat at the edge of the pond, tossing flakes of bread into the water. Beaker was sitting by his side, his flippers tucked away beneath his feathery body. Trunks stroked the creature as a means to lead away his thoughts. It wouldn't do; after a while he heard his mother scrape her throat.

"Not that I mind getting out of the house for a change, but would you mind telling me why I had to come along so badly?"

Trunks sighed and turned to her. Bulma was sitting on one of the benches with her legs crossed, her hands neatly folded on her knee and a waiting expression on her face.

"I wanted to get you away from Dad before I talked to you," Trunks explained. "No offense, but he isn't the best conversational partner."

Bulma snorted into her fist. "That's saying it lightly."

"Okay." Trunks exhaled sharply. He just had to go out and say this. His mother was sure to understand. That still didn't make it any easier to speak the words, though. "I wanted to tell you a few things. And I want to ask you some other things."

His mother nodded but said nothing. Good, so it was all on him.

"Okay, here goes. So, Mom, remember when you asked me when I was going to start chasing skirts?" The words almost caught in his throat. His cheeks were already beginning to glow, so he looked down at his feet to hide them. Beaker had waddled up to his side and was now pressing his head against his calf.

"I think I recall something like that, yes," Bulma said. "You aren't telling me that I have a daughter-in-law now, are you?"

"No I'm not!" Trunks reared his head up and he looked at his mother, his face spelling pure astonishment. In hindsight the reaction had been much fiercer than necessary. "No, there is no daughter-in-law." he was silent for a second, then threw caution to the wind. "Nor will there be."

Bulma needed a few seconds to let the words register in her brains. She blinked as if she didn't understand, then her mouth fell open into a perfect O-shape.

Trunks had expected a lot of confused stuttering, maybe even exclamations of how she had never expected this, oh, how could she have been so blind. But that didn't happen. All she did was smile at him.

"Who made you realize?" she eventually asked.

It felt as though a brick had just been lifted from his stomach. "Sadie did," he replied, a happy smile spreading across his face.

"Ah, such a sweet girl," Bulma mumbled. "I should send her some flowers, don't you agree?"

Trunks shrugged. "Do what you think is best. It might be a bit strange, though. Don't forget the card that says 'thank you for helping my son find out he is a homosexual'."

Bulma glared at his snarky remark, but soon her smile was a mirror to his. "Don't be a smart mouth. Now..." she uncrossed her legs and leaned over. A joyous glint appeared in her eyes. "Anyone you have your sights on?"

Trunks said nothing, but he scratched the back of his head. This made his mother gasp.

"Ooooh this is perfect!" she squealed. "Gohan will be so happy when I tell him!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"That you have a crush on his little brother, of course!" Bulma beamed. Trunks was about to sputter something incohesive, probably about how there was no possible way for her to have figured that out, but Bulma held up a hand to silence him.

"It's obvious too," she said, talking to herself more than to her son. "You already have his mannerisms. I can't tell you how many times I've seen Gohan scratch his neck like that, and I'm dead sure that Goten does the same."

"... Are you kidding me?"

"Are you telling me that I'm wrong?"

"Well, no, but how in the name of all that is good and holy are you able to tell that from me scratching my neck?"

Bulma smiled and winked at him. "Call it a mother's intuition."

"I'm calling it creepy."

But Bulma wasn't listening. She had gone full crazy. Trunks could see it in her eyes. It wouldn't be long before she started doing the same as Goten, try and get him to talk about handsome guys in order to make him feel uncomfortable. That or she would deem it necessary to give him a proper lesson in sexual education. Perhaps suicide was the only way out.

"Oh, I bet I can get Gohan to help me set you guys up, no problem," she mused to herself.

"You don't have to," Trunks interrupted her. "Sadie's already claimed that role."

"Curses," Bulma said, shaking her fist in mock defeat. "I should've known. That girl is far too hands on for her own good."

Trunks had to suppress a bout of laughter. Heh, if only she knew.

"Well that actually brings me to what I wanted to ask you," Trunks said. He had almost forgotten that he also had a plan to set in motion. "See, Goten's birthday is in nine days and I wanted to do something nice for him."

"So you want to borrow my credit card?"

Trunks shook his head. He sat down on the bench next to his mother and pulled Beaker into his lap. The bird closed its eyes straight away, relishing in the warmth of the sun. "No," Trunks said. "I want to borrow your phone."

That puzzled Bulma just like Trunks had expected. "Huh, how come?"

"It's kind of sad, actually. It turns out Gohan and Goten's dad died the day after Goten's birthday, three years ago."

Bulma gave a tiny gasp of horror. Trunks nodded. "Yeah, I know. So the guy hasn't celebrated his birthday in almost three years because he wants to dedicate the day to his father. Still, I want him to have a proper birthday. I want to do something for him and I think I might have an idea. But to make sure that everything will go okay, I have to give Gohan a call."

He looked up at his mother to find her smiling. "You really are a good kid, you know that?" Bulma said as she rummaged through her purse. She handed him her phone. "So what are you going to do?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Trunks said while searching for Gohan's name in the list of contacts. "It's a great idea, really. Well, two ideas, actually. I hope you don't mind, because I kind of want to toss some money into this. The second idea especially."

"Will it bankrupt us?" Bulma asked, a most ridiculous question.

"Oh yeah. It'll destroy us completely. Probably have to take out a loan for a two-story cardboard box after I'm done."

"Good," Bulma said. She rummaged in her purse some more and retrieved a wad of cash, shoving it into Trunks's hands. "I don't know if this will be enough. If you need any more, just tell me."

Trunks had meanwhile found Gohan's number. He dialed it and held the phone to his ear, simultaneously stowing away the money into one of his pockets. As the simple, monotonous tone rang from the device, Trunks mused that he would have to thank Sadie for her brilliant idea. He would never, ever, ever admit this, but perhaps she was the Great Goddess of Matchmaking.

"Hello, Gohan speaking."

"Oh, hey, Gohan, this is Trunks. I hope you don't mind me calling, but I have a few questions that I wanted to ask you..."

* * *

The summer holidays had rolled around faster than Goten had been able to blink. Just like that he had eight weeks of pure freedom to his disposal, not a care in the world.

Though strictly speaking that wasn't entirely true. For the last three weeks he had been racking his brains in an attempt to figure out what Trunks had in store for his birthday. His friend had sounded so enthusiastic and so sure of himself. He was planning on something big and it pleased him to no end to do so right in front of Goten, making phone calls and sharing information in the perfect amounts, enough to make Goten curious, but not enough to have him figure anything out.

It was, simply put, infuriating.

Thank god all things came to an end. It finally became clear what Trunks had been concocting the day before Goten's actual birthday. He had spent the previous night playing Banshee until the late hours, so by the time his head had hit the pillow the sun was already creeping its luminous fingers along the horizon.

Sleep had come easy, but it hadn't been meant to be. Maybe an hour or two after he had laid himself to rest the door to his bedroom flew open wide, smacking against the doorframe and waking him so roughly that he was sitting bolt upright before he registered what was happening.

Still sleep drunk he rubbed his eyes. When the world came into focus he saw Marron standing in the doorway. The grin on her face spelled trouble, though it was nothing compared to the stereo that she was holding out. It was already too late to protest.

"Hellooooo, Goooooo!" Never in his life had he hated a sound more. That was until Marron hit the play button on the stereo and a very a-musical rendition of 'Happy Birthday' made his eardrums sore. He clapped his hands to the side of his head and watched as Marron did a one-person conga line though his room. Only when the entire song was over did she stop.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Marron cheered. She appeared to be fully awake and ready to take on the day. Goten tossed a pillow at her.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" He sure didn't, but a glance at the alarm clock revealed the hour to be eight in the morning. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Was my musical hint not subtle enough for you?"

Goten grumbled and tossed another pillow. "It's not even my birthday!" he pointed out. "That's not until tomorrow."

"I know, I know." Marron said. "The thing is, though, you have a busy day tomorrow, so I'll have to give you your present today."

"What do you mean, I have a busy day tomorrow?"

"Oops, I guess I said too much," Marron replied, a wide smirk curving her lips. "Anyway, you better get your ass out of bed. I have a present for you and when you're done unwrapping it we're going somewhere. And don't even ask, it's a surprise."

Goten sighed. "Fine. But get the hell out of my room. I'm not wearing anything."

"Ooh, sexy..."

"Marron, fuck off."

"Fine, fine..." Marron raised her hands in a defensive manner. "Geez, I thought you had a sense of humour."

"Not at eight in the morning."

"Sure, whatever," Marron said, leaving the room. "Just hurry up!"

Goten contemplated the idea of dressing as slowly as he possible could, just to irk Marron for a bit, but he decided against it. Marron, sweet as she was, had a knack for pushing people's buttons. If he rubbed her the wrong way once she would never let him forget it.

When he came downstairs he found Marron sitting in the living room. Not even his mother was up yet; the rest of the house was silent. Beside the couch that Marron was sitting stood a large wooden crate that reminded Goten of Sunday morning cartoons. It was the kind of box that would always contain large amounts of dynamite that would blow up as soon as someone assaulted it with a crowbar. More often than not the side would read 'NOT WEAPONS'.

Needless to say, when Marron handed him a crowbar without giving any explanation at all, he gulped.

It took a decent amount of violence to get the lid of the crate. It came loose after a few tries, the wood groaning and splintering every time Goten put his weight down on the tool. When it finally popped off he was actually very eager to see what was inside. When he saw it he squealed. No joke. He literally gave a little squeak of joy.

With a lot of difficulty he opened the sides of the crate. Five minutes later he could see his new Fender Bassman in its full glory. God, what a fine piece of machinery... Goten was perfectly silent as he studied it from all sides, taking the sight of it in and trying to make sure that this wasn't all a dream. When he had determined that yes, he was in fact awake, he pulled Marron into a hug so tight that he heard her ribs crack.

"Glad you like it," she wheezed, rubbing at her sides.

Goten released her and took to staring at the Bassman again. "Like it? I fucking love it!" He allowed his fingers to roam over the equipment, to take in the craftsmanship. This was just amazing. There were no words for it.

And, like Marron had told him, this was only the beginning.

She reminded him of this when she thought that he had gotten enough time to get aroused over a piece of machinery. Reluctantly, Goten left the Bassman behind, instead grabbing his keys and phone and following Marron outside of the house. A splendid white limousine stood parked in the driveway.

Goten gave her a confused look. "Okay, I don't know what the hell you are planning on, but it seems like it cost a lot."

"Pfft, please," Marron snorted. "This is our second limo. We only use it in case the first one breaks down or is being used. This is the cheap model." Cheap meaning that it had gilded door handles and, Goten could spot this through the open door, velvet seat covering.

Marron scared him when she approached him from behind. There was no sense in fighting back though, so he allowed her to do as she wished, and god that sounded wrong in his mind. It wasn't at all helpful that Marron went about tying a blindfold in front of his eyes.

When Marron was sure that he couldn't see a single thing. She guided him towards the limousine with her hand on his wrist. He couldn't help but be nervous; he had a feeling that Marron was in cahoots with Trunks on this one. And all that he could do was wait and see.

* * *

Trunks wasn't one to feel nervous quickly. For the majority of his life he had been able to do things at a slow crawl and there had been very little to worry about. Yet for the past several months he had basically been a trainwreck. Of course, they had been exceptional months and he had learned a lot about himself, but they had destroyed his nerves nonetheless.

Today that gnawing sense of dread was worse than it had ever been. Trunks sat outside the place to be for the day, just staring out into the sea of people who were making their way towards their jobs or whatever they did to fill their days. He had found a fountain at the corner of the street and he was now sitting on the edge of it. He stole glances at his watch every few seconds, as if it could help him speed up time. It was only a few minutes to half past eight, so he wasn't exactly pressed for time, but still he felt annoyed with the waiting.

Planning out Goten's birthday presents had gone as smoothly as he had hoped it would. He had built out on an idea that Sadie helped him come up with, a plot that the girl had been sure would bring him and Goten closer together. And, Trunks had to admit, it really was a good plan. At the very least he would be able to knock Goten off his socks.

Gohan had been very cooperative. He had told Trunks everything there was to know about the area, so there was no possible way for any nasty surprises to pop up. Gohan had also shared a few stories about his father with Trunks, so now Trunks had a bit more an idea who Goku Son actually was. Hearing what Gohan had to say about him was heartwarming.

Goku had been the true definition of a family man, if the stories were true. He had always supported his family by living off the land, so there had never been a necessity for money. All the food they ate they grew themselves. The meat came from animals they hunted in the forests around their house. Their only expenses had been rent, insurance and gas, water and electricity.

Furthermore, Goku had always been the supportive parent. He had worked three hours a day extra to make sure that Gohan was able to pursue his academic career until his scholarship kicked in. And when Goten had first gotten Banshee Goku would sit in Goten's room and endure the horribly incohesive strumming that was Goten's playing back then. He wouldn't say a bad word about it. Goku had always been Goten's biggest fan.

When the man had passed away they had buried him behind the house of his grandfather, a stone's throw away from the house where Goten had grown up. Until this very day there was a shrine with Goku's photo perched on top, though now there was no one to keep it clean and to light the candles. Chi-Chi had been unable to get all the work done to raise enough money, and so she had been forced to seek her business elsewhere.

Goku Son sounded like an amazing man and it was not hard to see how he had managed to raise such amazing children. Like other great men he had been taken before his time, but not before he was able to instill some of himself in his own kin. Goku lived on through his sons and he did so with as much ferocity as he had done during his living days. That made Trunks feel all the more compelled to honour him.

Another look at his watch. Five more minutes had slipped by. Trunks was getting antsy; Marron had texted him that they were on their way a little while ago, so they should be arriving any moment now. To be truthful, Trunks was surprised that Chi-Chi had agreed to this part of the plan. He had taken her for someone who didn't agree with 'rash choices' like these, and she probably was, but it seemed as though Chi-Chi was now becoming more lenient with her son. She was beginning to see that Goten had to develop in his own way and at his own pace.

His coming out might have had something to do with that.

Trunks grumbled. Couldn't these people hurry up? Was Marron taking the scenic route? He lit a cigarette to kill time, an action that proved to be unnecessary. Just when the tip began to glow red and wisps of smoke were filling his lungs, a white limousine turned around the corner. It parked right in front of him.

Marron exited the vehicle first. She stepped out with a huge smile on her face and she winked when she saw Trunks. That girl could do a lot of things, but being inconspicuous was not one of them. Goten stepped out second. He had a tea towel wrapped around his face and Trunks involuntarily thought of how Sadie had put him in a similar situation. If only she Marron hadn't gotten frisky with Goten...

It was a good thing that he was blindfolded for now, because at the sight of him Trunks's face glowed a deep scarlet. Shit, he had almost forgotten how bad this crush of his was. The past few weeks had given him the time to make matters worse. At first he had been captivated by Goten in every which way, though he still had some semblance of control over himself. Now he began to blush just at the thought of those dark eyes looking back at him. The red on his cheeks would stay for only a few seconds. But he'd rather not have it at all, lest he betrayed himself with something as foolish as a facial expression.

Marron took away Goten's blindfold. While he was busy adjusting to the sunlight falling into his face she hopped into the limo. Before Goten could even take a second to look around, Marron had gone, exactly according to plan.

Goten wheeled around on the spot, completely lost with what was currently happening. After shifting his gaze over his surroundings he spotted Trunks, the relief obvious in his form. Goten paced over, giving a cheerful wave.

"Hey!" he said as he approached. "I take it that you are responsible for this part of the surprise?"

Trunks nodded. "Right you are. Actually I have two surprises."

Goten gave a puzzled frown. "Two?"

"Two," Trunks confirmed. He patted on the edge of the fountain. Goten joined him, crinkling his nose when he caught a whiff of Trunks's cigarette.

"The first present you will get today," Trunks explained. "The other you will get tomorrow, so that will be a surprise until then."

"I don't think I like where this is going."

"Trust me, you'll love it," Trunks assured him. "It took me some planning and some phone calls, but I managed to pull everything off." Trunks reached into the pocket of his summer jacket and took out a sheet of paper that was folded over once. "Here," he said, handing it to Goten. "Present number one."

Goten took the paper from him with eyebrows arched high. He unfolded it and immediately gave a sharp gasp. Trunks felt his insides glow with pride.

"This is amazing..." Goten almost whispered. "Did you make this? It doesn't look like a photograph, although it also does. I mean... you get what I mean, don't you?"

Trunks smiled and gave a nod. "Yup, my handiwork. Glad you like it."

"Don't take this the wrong way, cause I said the same to Marron, but like it? Fuck no, I love it!" Goten had a smile on his face the size of a canyon, his dark eyes taking the time to take in every single detail.

Trunks had given him a drawing of Banshee. Trunks had done his best to make the drawing as realistic as he possible could. It showed Goten's guitar from the point of view of a bug crawling on the floor; Banshee seemed gigantic and looming tall. Every tidbit, every dent, every scratch, Trunks had incorporated. A cable ran out the back of the guitar and was plugged into a Fender Bassman amplifier.

"That's not the only thing, though," Trunks said. "See, I remember you telling me that if you got your first tattoo, you would get a portrait of this beauty right here. So I made you a design to take to a shop."

"Oh wow," Goten breathed. "I would've just taken a photo with me, but this is so much better! Thanks a million! Too bad that I won't be able to talk Mom into letting me get a tattoo just yet."

Trunks held up a hand in a 'wait a minute' kind of gesture. He tapped a few buttons on his phone, meanwhile pulling at his cigarette. He found the video he needed and tapped play, showing it to Goten.

At first there was nothing but the dining room at Goten's house. Then Chi-Chi strolled into frame. Goten watched with large eyes as she seated herself at the table and looked at the camera. Then she began to speak.

"Hey Goten, it's me, Mommy! I can't believe that you are this old already, I really can't. You've grown so much... Now, you are probably wondering why I am making this video. Well, your friend Trunks is here with me and he asked me to help him arrange your birthday present. Or presents, if you will. He told me that you will get the second present tomorrow, and I must say that he has some amazing ideas, that kid. You should be blessed with a friend like him.

He wanted to give you two presents, though. It took Trunks a while to talk me into it, but in the end I decided to let it go. Like I said, you are no longer my little boy anymore and you can make your own decisions very well. I'm so proud of you for that. This is something that you will have to decide for yourself, but I think I already know the answer. Trunks showed me the drawing he made and it _does_ look good. And even though I'm not crazy about the idea of you getting stabbed thousands of times and injected with chemicals, I know it is something you want. Goten Son, if you want to get a tattoo, you hereby have my permission."

The video ended. Goten sat completely still, his mouth open in shock. It made Trunks laugh. After a while his friend found the words the voice his thoughts.

"Okay, so you drugged my mom and made her say that, right?"

Trunks laughed even harder and shook his head. "Nope, that was all genuine."

"So I can actually get a tattoo?"

"That's what she said, yeah."

"Shit! I'm going to start saving right away. Now that I have a design I want to get it done as soon as possible. How long do you think it'll take? With my allowance I can probably save it up in six months... Maybe I can get Gohan to chip in a bit, make it four months..."

Trunks took a casual look at his watch. "How about in ten minutes?"

Goten looked at him as though he had just proclaimed his undying belief in unicorns. "Wait what?"

Trunks smiled. "See that tattoo shop over there?" he pointed towards a building with a brightly coloured front and with traditional dragons decorating the windows. "That's where Mizuki Nagasaki works. She's the greatest tattoo artist in the country when it comes to realistic colour portraits."

'Yeah, I've heard of her," Goten said. "They say she can do a full portrait in four hours or less."

"That's right," Trunks confirmed. "And I booked you an appointment for this morning. We can walk in five minutes from now. You'll have your tattoo by the end of the day."

All Goten could do for a little while was blink, as if he couldn't comprehend what he was being told. "Are you serious?" he said eventually.

"Dead serious," Trunks said. "I'm paying for the whole thing, so you don't have to worry about money. And don't go mouth me off on it either. You know perfectly well that I could wipe my ass with money, as smug as it might sound. I might as well use it for something good."

Goten's mouth opened and closed, words befalling him.

"So are you going to get it?" Trunks asked.

Goten winced at this. "Well, I really, really, really want to, but you're kind of dropping this one on me, man. If you had shown me yesterday I would have had my mind made up today."

"So that's a yes?" Trunks queried, hopeful that this was going where he thought it was going.

"Eh..."

"You know what?" Trunks asked. "I'm going to chip in another surprise, one I just thought of." He showed Goten the cigarette he had been smoking. It had almost burned down to the filter, only a drag or two remained. "If you get my art on you today, this will be the last cigarette I will ever smoke."

Goten's lips twitched into a smile. "You've convinced me," he said. "Fine. I'll do it. But only if you sign it, so that I can give the artist the credit he is due."

"Deal!" Trunks took the final drag from his cancer stick and tossed what remained of it aside. No more smoking for him. He grabbed a pencil from his pocket and signed the tattoo design. When he handed it back to Goten, his friend pulled him into a crushing hug that made him feel warm all over. Damn infatuation.

Ten minutes later they walked into the tattoo store. Goten was looking anxious, so Trunks placed a hand on his shoulder to soothe him. He almost died of laughter when Goten whispered to him "Sorry, I'm terrified of needles."

Mizuki Nagasaki was one of the friendliest women that Trunks had ever met. It was easy to let your eyes do the judging; Mizuki was covered in ink from her throat to her toes. To any passerby she might look menacing, but when she noticed the two boys coming into her shop she smiled warmly at them.

Everything had already been taken care of. Chi-Chi had signed the permission slip days before and Trunks had managed to pickpocket Goten's ID card to make a copy of it, so they had that too. They weren't even inside for ten whole minutes and Goten already had the stencil on his arm. Banshee would be eternalized across the entire length of his lower arm. It would take a while to finish, but Mizuki assured Goten that she would be able to finish it in one session. That was if he could do it too.

Goten was indeed scared of needles. The first half hour of the session was very nerve wracking, but after a while the boy became accustomed to the feeling of being stabbed and filled with chemicals. Soon enough he was just lounging back as Mizuki worked, saturating the colours in Banshees body and absolutely nailing the portrait she was doing, getting all the hues of blue in to a point of perfection. Trunks was very much impressed by her work.

The whole thing took about six hours. When Mizuki was done she wiped Goten's arm clean from any ink residue. Then she wiped it over with a cooling balm to support the skin in its healing process. When that was all seen to Goten was allowed to check his reflection in the full-length mirror.

He drew in his breath as soon as he came into frame. His left arm was a little red from all the abuse it had seen, but through the irritation Banshee came forward like a musical giant, looking pristine down to the gleam on her body and the jauntily loose strings. Goten studied the tattoo for several minutes, checking every inch and every little detail. It was all exactly as how Trunks had designed it. Mizuki hadn't missed a spot. She had even managed to make an exact copy of his signature.

Trunks walked over to stand beside Goten. He smiled at him when their eyes met through the mirror and Goten smiled back. Trunks was about to wish him a happy birthday, but Goten silenced him with a hug.

This embrace was unlike any they had shared before. This one seemed so much more personal, so much more saying. Trunks could feel it in the pit of his stomach, this creeping sensation that assured him that this wasn't any ordinary hug. This was confirmed to him when Goten's hand found his hair, sending a tingling feeling into his scalp.

Trunks leaned back but did not release the hug. He found Goten's eyes and became lost in them. Their dark depths were pulling him in, hypnotizing him and taking away his ability to function. He didn't even realize that he was holding his breath.

Goten gazed back, his lips twitching up into a half-smile. Trunks felt his heart pounding in his chest and temples. They were so close together that he could sense Goten's warm breath on his face. When Goten finally laid his hand against his jaw, Trunks gave in.

He pressed his lips against Goten's, losing all sense of reality in a split second. The world around him simply crumbled away, leaving nothing but the two of them in their own little universe. Goten returned the kiss, his thumb sliding over the stubble on Trunks's chin, his other hand buried deep in lavender locks.

And just like that Trunks felt whole.

They released their lips, but the embrace remained. Both boys were breathing heavier, their faces flushed and their gazes locked onto one another. A million different thoughts and sensations went through Trunks's mind. Most of all he wanted to know: how had it made him feel?

The answer was perfect. Simply perfect.

When Goten kissed him again, he knew this for sure.

The second kiss was much longer, more catered to the both of them. Now that the edge was off it was time for them to test the waters. As Trunks leaned in he was surprised by how rough Goten's lips were, how masculine the taste of him was. It made his head swim. One of his hands landed on the small of Goten's back without his consent. The other curled its fingers into Goten's shirt to pull him in deeper.

When both of them needed to breathe again they broke apart. Times and places had gotten lost them. This became painfully and embarrassingly clear when they realized where they were.

In the middle of a tattoo parlor.

Mizuki did not help. Somewhere along the line she had finished packing up her materials. Just as Goten and Trunks stepped apart, they heard her coo "Awww, that is so sweet!"

Needless to say, both boys grew a fiery red. And that had nothing to do with kissing whatsoever.

Okay, maybe a little bit.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey! CHapter 10 is ready, after a little bout of absence on my end. I hope this chapter makes up for it. I always say I had fun writing the chapter (which is perfectly true), but this time I mean it more than ever.**

 **Now please read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

Rough awakenings were becoming a trend. The sharp wailing of the doorbell made Goten wake up in a bout of curses. For several seconds he was surrounded by nothing but darkness, until he was able to make out the alarm clock on his desk and read the glaring red digits. It was ten past four. In the morning. What the actual fuck.

What was even weirder was that Goten couldn't hear his mother's voice travelling down the hall. Chi-Chi was a light sleeper and much like her second son she was very unappreciative of being dragged from her slumber in the dead of night. Goten could remember a night several years ago where Gohan had gotten himself good and shit-faced to the point of speaking in tongues. Instead of sneaking into the house he had spent ten minutes fighting the lock before he had fallen through the open door, taking the coat rack down as he went and making enough noise to wake up babies on the other side of the globe. Needless to say, a hangover wasn't the only thing giving Gohan a headache the following morning.

Goten swung his legs out of bed, still cursing. He scooped a pair of underwear off the floor and deemed it clean enough for nightly visitors after giving it a sniff. He covered his torso with a shirt and hit the lights in his room. It took him a while to really get moving, the remainder of sleep still heavy on his eyelids, but when that piercing note made his temples throb again he hurried across the hall and down the stairs, ready to shout at whoever had the gall to come knocking at this hour.

He tried to discern a recognizable shape through the thick glass in the front door, but it was no good. Goten wasn't exactly dressed to impress, but whoever felt it was necessary to make a house call at four at night probably wouldn't. Sighing, Goten opened the door.

Sadie was standing on the other side.

"Oh, hey, it's you," Goten said while rubbing at his eyes. "The hell are you doing here at this unholy hour?"

Sadie smiled at him and danced on the balls of her feet. She was clearly nervous and Goten reckoned that there was a method to her madness. It was scary enough to make him gulp.

"Would you believe me if I said I was here to kidnap you and drag you off to the other side of the world?" Her tone was playful, something that kept Goten on high alert. It came to him quite suddenly; Trunks had said that there was still a birthday surprise waiting for him. Come to think of it, it was his birthday now. For a second it made him smile on the inside, but that little flame of happiness was quickly extinguished. Four in the morning was no time to be celebrating, nor to joke about taking someone against their will.

"I probably would," Goten replied. "Can I at least come peacefully, though?"

"Oh, no, obviously not," Sadie said, rolling her eyes. "What did you think, that I would be taking you by force? No offense, Miss Daisy, but even though you can't put a dent in a pack of butter doesn't mean that I can overpower you. Have you seen me?"

"I have, and I must say that you're not my type," Goten yawned. "I like them a bit more manly."

"Like me?" A voice whispered from behind.

To prove just how much Goten liked a rugged manly man, he gave the loudest shriek that had ever passed his vocal cords. And of course he flapped his hands like a retarded penguin for added effect. Two people were laughing at him; Sadie was wiping the tears from her eyes and when he wheeled around, Goten saw Jasper standing not too far away, a hand on his stomach and his face as red as hair.

"Asshole!" Goten bit, though it was hard to be mean when he was being laughed at. "'Fuck, you could've killed me!"

"Sorry babe," Jasper smirked. "Didn't mean for you to soak your panties. I just wanted to be in on the surprise."

"The surprise you aren't telling me about."

"Uh, doy. Otherwise it wouldn't be a surprise." Jasper's smirk grew wider. "That being said though, I heard that our lavender-haired hottie got you the surprise of a lifetime."

Goten expected Sadie to fry an egg on his forehead any second now. Either the tattoo parlor had been bugged to shit, or Mizuki knew someone within his social circle and hadn't been able to keep her damn tongue to herself.

Goten stepped a little closer to Jasper and lowered his voice. No need for Sadie to hear this, though she probably already knew.

"Not to be the bearer of bad news, but you know what this means for us, don't you? About our little arrangement?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jasper asked, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hair. "I meant that tattoo that he got you."

"Oh. Right."

Jasper took a hold of Goten's arm and turned it over to study it in the light of the porch. "Wicked..." he whispered, sliding his thumb across the length of Banshee's neck. "Mizuki did one hell of a good job."

"Y-Yeah, she did."

'Wait a minute..." Jasper said, his lips curling into a little arch. "What did you think I was talking about?"

"N-Nothing. Nothing at all. Shut up."

"Guys, what's going on?" Sadie had taken notice of their little huddle and was now demanding information. "Something that I'm not supposed to know about? A little dirty secret? Gossip? Oooooh, let me have it!"

"I said it's nothing!" Goten almost shouted. He wasn't used to people ganging up on him.

"Bullshit," Jasper cooed. "Sadie, you wouldn't believe it, but I think that our little Goten got something more than just a tattoo yesterday."

Sadie squealed so loud that Goten was sure it would wake up his mother. Then he realized that the woman was likely already awake and definitely in on the plan.

"I knew the two of you would hit it off! I told Trunks so, I freakin' fuckin' friggin' told him!" Sadie was nearly hysterical. "And that little crybaby didn't want to call me by my proper title, the Great Goddess of Matchmaking. Heh, I showed him."

"How do you people pry into my brain like that?" Goten asked, frowning. "I didn't say anything yet you assume it all."

"Goten, babe, I can just read it on your face." Jasper's arms slid around Goten's neck. Goten could feel the other's warm breath tickling at his hairline. "I must say though, I am a little jealous of Trunks, ya know? Snagging this little hottie away from me."

Goten was about to tell Jasper to lay off him, but that's when it dawned on him that Jasper's arms were clenching around him tightly. He wanted to curse and yell and kick, but he saw Sadie approach with a blindfold and immediately knew that it would be futile. Besides, Jasper may have been the feminine one in their relationship, but he was still quite a bit stronger.

Jasper held Goten in place as Sadie darkened the world around him. Goten raised no complaints when his hands were drawn behind his back. Sure, he had some snark at the ready, but that was about all.

"Ooh, Jasper, where was this enthusiasm when we were still a thing?" Goten jibed when he heard the metallic chime coming from behind. Jasper slid the cuffs around his wrists and they locked together with a click. A hand on the small of his back told him that it was time to move.

"Hey!" Goten protested. "Do you people even realize that I'm not wearing any pants?"

"Eh, Trunks'll like that, I guess," Jasper said. Goten kicked back blindly; the pained yelp that followed told him that he had nailed Jasper in the shins.

"Seriously, you bunch of assholes," Goten sputtered. "I swear to everything, you better get me a pair of pants and some shoes before I kick the hell out of you."

A giggle from his left alerted him to Sadie's location. "Don't worry, Goten. It'll only be cold those few steps to the car. From there on out everything has heating. Besides, we have everything taken care of. Not that you'd need pants where you are going, anyway."

"Do I even want to know?"

"I bet you do."

* * *

When the door to the Capsule Corp jet opened up, Trunks nearly laughed himself into a fit, then nearly died of embarrassment and a severe case of overheating. Goten's head was the first thing to emerge. His hair, though wild and messy as a standard, was standing in corkscrews and twists. A blindfold was draped across his face. In short, he looked worse for wear.

He knew that Sadie and Jasper had basically dragged the kid from his bed and had taken him to the airstrip. They had also instructed him to take the steps that would take him inside the plane, but according to the plan they were to scurry away as soon as he had set foot on the first step. That meant that it was now Trunks's responsibility to make sure that Goten didn't fall to his death.

Unfortunately for both parties involved Trunks's mind was racing. As soon as the first wave of the giggles had passed it became clear to him just who was boarding the jet. The boy who he had a raging crush on. The boy that he had kissed for the first time yesterday. His... b-boyfriend? Was that the term?

These emotions passed through his mind in the space of seconds, making him feel a range of sensations from sheer terror to a joy so strong that he felt that his heart would not be able to contain it. As soon as this little big storm had passed it settled inside of his stomach as a never-ending torrent of butterflies, their wings whipping up just enough air to make him feel a bit queasy.

Then reality hit him. He should be making sure that Goten wouldn't splatter across the tarmac below. He rose from his chair and strode over to Goten, grabbing him by the arm and startling the life out of him. He pulled Goten into the jet and let go of him. He wanted to speak up immediately, but was halted by the sight of his love interest.

And no, not because Goten was pretty despite his out-of-bed looks and the way he screamed like a four-year-old girl facing off an army of spiders.

It was because Goten was clad in his underpants.

What was Trunks to say when the person of his fantasies -both sweet and spicy- stood in the middle of this space in nothing but boxers and a simple shirt? Not a whole lot, that was what. He probably should've been embarrassed to do so, feel a little sense of shame, but there wasn't any way that he could help it. He was staring at Goten like he was the greatest movie ever made, his mouth open just a tad, breath befalling him as much as words. That voice in the back of his head, the naughty one, begged the question who's birthday it really was; in the dirty movies this was usually how one was presented with a gift.

Now, that nasty train of thought completed, Trunks felt that he could safely speak up.

"Hey!" he said, perhaps a bit more enthused than he had wanted to come across.

"Trunks?' Goten asked, swaying his head around. "You there?"

"Yeah, here I am," Trunks replied. "Any idea where you are?"

"Not a clue. It's too dark to really see."

Trunks snickered and moved behind Goten, undoing the knot of the blindfold. The lighting in the jet was low, so Goten only blinked twice before his jaw dropped at the display of wealth all around him.

"Wow..." he breathed.

Trunks shrugged. Sure, it was fancy alright. They had a space about the size of an average living room to walk around in. The seats lined the walls of the aircraft and the upholstery was a velvety red that matched the plush carpet. There was a pool table, a television, a fridge. There was even a bed crammed into the corner. Basically the Capsule Corp jet was a flying hotel room. But of course to Trunks this was all old news. He let Goten bask in the glory a bit longer.

"So you like it," Trunks eventually said, smirking.

"Do I..." Goten said. "Sorry man, I just can't get used to how loaded you are."

"Believe me, it gets boring after a while."

"Try me."

Trunks laughed. "Maybe later." He didn't really know where to go from here. All he had to do was signal Pierre, the pilot, and they would be off to their destination. The whole reason that he had Goten lifted from his feathers so early in the morning was because the flight would take about eight hours and after they arrived they would need as much daylight as they could manage. Eight hours was a lot of time to fill and he was already running out of things to talk about. Great.

Or, well, there were just a whole lot of things that he did not dare speak about. Even the thought of them clenched his gut into an iron fist.

So instead he said "So, already wondering where we're going?"

Goten pondered this for a while. "Well, let's summarize. First I find Sadie at my front door at four in the fucking morning. Then Jasper sneaks into my house -I still have no idea how-, then they blindfold me, tie me up and throw me into the back of a car, only to take me to an airstrip where they toss me into the world's most luxurious private jet. Not to mention that as soon as i get my vision back I'm looking right at my new boyfriend. Where are we going? I don't know. Heaven, maybe?"

That little wild-haired, sweet-talking asshole. Trunks wanted to shove his head into the seat cushions because they would be able to camouflage the intense blush spreading over his cheeks. So in his ponderings he had been right. Goten was his boyfriend. Strangely enough he wasn't sure if he should be happy or frightened; giving the beast a name would make it much more real. He'd never been in a relationship before, let alone a gay one.

Goten seemed to read his anxiety. Before Trunks could blink Goten was in front of him, a smile on his face that made all of Trunks's worries melt away.

"That's okay, right?" he asked. "Calling you my boyfriend?" It must have been a trick of the light, because Trunks could have sworn that Goten's eyes tripled in size just then. Goten moved in closer, lining his face with Trunks. They were so close that their noses almost brushed together.

All Trunks could muster was a very tiny nod.

"Good," Goten said, and then he kissed him.

If it was possible for Trunks to have any fleeting thoughts in his mind, they were gone now. In a millisecond his entire being was absorbed into the entity that was Goten. There was nothing to look at but those beautiful eyes, that messy hair. There was nothing to smell but a strange tinge of vanilla, probably shampoo or cologne or something like that. Nothing to taste but lips as intoxicating as cocaine.

His hands flew up and one of them buried itself in Goten's hair. The other fell on his chin, tilting it up so that Trunks could seek closer contact. As the world around them crumbled, Trunks felt his entire sense of reasoning fall away as well.

The need to breathe suddenly overtook him. Trunks stepped back a little and looked at his boyfriend. Goten's face was as red as his, and he too was breathing heavier than before. Trunks did not even realize that he was still fiddling with Goten's locks until Goten began to laugh.

"Huh?" Trunks asked, dazed. "Something the matter?"

"Yeah," Goten said. "Is there any chance that you can take these off?" He shook the hands behind his back.

Immediately Trunks began to laugh as well. He had completely forgotten that Jasper and Sadie had deemed it necessary to handcuff Goten to get him to go along.

"Maybe," Trunks teased. "But I do think that this is very convenient." The smirk that decorated his face said it all; they might've just found a way to pass those eight hours anyway.

Much to his surprise Goten returned the grin. "Fine," Goten said. "I guess that means that I have to show you a little trick that Gohan taught me years ago." Trunks saw how Goten tensed his arms, whirled them around a bit, jiggled them up and down. And then, from out of nowhere, his hands flashed in front of Trunks's face, the handcuffs dangling uselessly from his index finger.

"Holy crap, how did you do that?" Trunks asked.

Goten graced him with a toothy smile as brilliant as the sun. "Ah, but a great magician never reveals his tricks."

"And a great magician always uses the same bullshit excuse." Trunks snatched the cuffs away and tossed them over his shoulder. "Besides, I kinda liked seeing you like that." He had almost swallowed the words, but upon seeing Goten's eyebrows rise in amusement, his confidence did the same. "You know, all tied up and helpless. Just think of all the ways I could've taken advantage of you."

"Oh, is that so?" Goten smirked at him. "Why? Am I supposed to be the girl in this relationship?"

"No, I... uh..."

"Is that it? You think I'm a bottom kind of guy?"

"Huh? I didn't..."

Goten was nose to nose with Trunks again, the smile never wavering. "Well then I got some news for you," he said, taking another step closer and forcing Trunks to take one back. "Jasper tore like three of my pillowcases, if you must know."

Okay, so how was Trunks to respond to that? Not at all, of course. Goten could read the awkwardness on his face as usual.

"Oh, sweetheart," Goten laughed. "Don't you worry about it. We'll figure all of this out." He kissed Trunks once more, this time with more force than ever before.

Trunks wanted to everything and nothing at all. Ravage Goten and just stand still and savor the moment. This was all new territory to him as it was, so all he could do was wing it. He had a fair idea of where this could go, but he would have to wait and see if he was right.

At the end of that particular brain wave he got his answer. Suddenly Goten's tongue was in his mouth and it was the best thing that he had ever experienced in his life. Back at his birthday party when he had kissed Sadie, he had felt the mild sensation of physical pleasure, but only because his body wasn't accustomed to it. But this was so much more real. _This_ was the thrill that his body had desired. When Goten's tongue lapped at his, his entire form began to quiver, overcome by this sheer sense of pleasure that he would never be able to put to words.

Goten's hands were clawing at his back, pulling at the hem of his shirt. Trunks took a step back, raked his courage together, exhaled sharply, and took the garment off. Goten did the same. They took a second to look at each other.

Goten was, well, sorry for the cliché, perfect. Though the boy swore he hated physical exercise with a passion, he actually looked quite fit. He was a little narrow in the shoulders, but his stature made up for that; Trunks was only just realizing how tall Goten was. He was pale, but not see-through. tiny black hairs trailed from his belly button down to the rim of his underwear, and that was when Trunks realized that he was doing more than just looking; he was staring.

This raised the question what Goten was thinking about him. When Trunks looked up to meet his eyes, Goten's were lazily flicking back and forth across Trunks's body, feeling no shame in studying every nook and cranny. He must've liked what he saw, because that toothy grin flashed across his face again, making Trunks grow red like a road flare.

"You're a skinny one too," Goten said, stepping up to Trunks and wrapping his arms around him. "And it's kind of cute that you're a little tiny. That way I can do this." He pressed a smooch on top of Trunks's head and enveloped him in a beat hug.

Trunks felt as though his head could explode. First the french kissing, now this. Goten was warm against him, and he was mesmerizing. It was like being wrapped in velvet, so smooth, so soft, so lush. Once again he could feel that tiny semblance of self control slipping away.

Instead of letting it stew in his mind, Trunks turned on his heels and kissed Goten hard. Lights went off behind his eyelids. The butterflies in his stomach were replaced by a flock birds, their wings flapping against his insides. Oh god, he was about to lose it.

Goten responded in kind. Hands found Trunks's hair this time, raking through it and making his scalp tingle. One of them went on its own journey, leaving the purple locks alone and doing a small walk across the nape of his neck, before gliding down his spine, drawing circles and making Trunks shiver.

When he opened his eyes and drew back from the kiss, he was lying on the bed. He had no idea how he got there, and it simply didn't matter. Goten was hovering above him, messing with the button on Trunks's jeans. His shoes were already gone.

Trunks could, in his muddled state of mind, still remember that they had places to go. He hit a green button by the side of the bed and immediately the jet began to move. There was no need for seatbelts thanks to his mother's insane scientific team.

Goten seemed to be aware of this. The tremor that moved through the floor wasn't enough to deter him. Within seconds his face was level with Trunks's again. Their lips sealed and Goten fell onto Trunks, their naked skins sliding together and bringing on a sense of arousal that Trunks didn't even know was possible. When Goten pressed his pelvis to Trunks's, and both of them could feel each other's hardening lengths press together, the lights went out.

Eight hours did pass quickly if you knew what to do with them.

* * *

Pierre's voice came on over the intercom to announce their landing, waking Goten up. When he opened his eyes he was immediately greeted by a scene of luxury that did not even exist in his dreams. He rubbed at his eyes and squinted against the glare of the sunlight that filled the jet. He felt very well rested; this was evident by the smile that he did not even know was on his face.

There was a weight on his chest. Goten looked down and saw Trunks, his head on Goten's pectorals, purple hair fanning out and covering his eyes like curtains. One of Trunks's hands held onto Goten's shoulder, making sure that their embrace did not part even in sleep.

Goten could look at him like this forever, but unfortunately today was not the day for that. He hoisted himself up a little against the pillows -the very, very comfortable pillows- and gave Trunks a slight nudge.

"Heh, whu-" Trunks grumbled. "What's wrong?" He stretched his arms above his head and yawned.

"We're here," Goten said. "Wherever 'here' is."

"Oh, right!" Trunks darted out of bed before Goten could blink. It was kind of funny to note how a few hours ago Trunks was hesitant to even let Goten look at him, yet now here he was, pacing up and down the length of the jet in his birthday suit. Or Goten's birthday suit, from a technical standpoint.

"I'm going to tell Pierre to lower the shades on the windows," Trunks said, still pacing up and down, nearly beside himself with sudden excitement. "I want this to be a surprise until the very end."

"Sure, but shouldn't you put something on first?" Goten pointed at Trunks's exposed nether regions for emphasis.

Trunks shot a quick glance down, then a thumbs up. "Right-O."

Ten minutes later they were both dressed and the shades were drawn on the windows. Goten did not question why they were wearing shorts. Judging by the amount of time that they had been flying, it was safe to say that they were on another hemisphere than the one they started on. It was probably the edge of summer here.

"Okay, ready?" Trunks asked. Goten gave a nod and Trunks yanked him along by his hand. Goten was lead to the door and Trunks opened it, immediately clapping his hands in front of Goten's eyes. The other boy only got a brief chance to glimpse the stairs leading out of the jet before the world went dark around him.

Trunks was guiding him with his words. "Okay, now here's the first step. Easy... there you go. Now keep going. That's it, yes, good. Okay, we're completely down now. Now walk in _this_ direction. Good, now over there. Okay, stop."

Goten had to admit that he was feeling anxious right about now. There was no way in hell that he would be able to guess what Trunks had in store for him. He could feel the warm glow of the last sun of the afternoon burn his skin. A mild breeze was blowing and it was carrying the scents of nature.

He was about to get impatient, but then he heard two heavy thuds, followed by Trunks saying "Thank you, Pierre." Then his boyfriend addressed him. "Okay, are you ready for your surprise?"

Goten nodded.

"Well then, here we go!" Trunks chimed. "Happy birthday!" He took his hands away from Goten's eyes.

Goten looked around. For a second or two his eyes needed to adjust to the light, but as soon as he could make out his surroundings, his jaw dropped and his heart skipped three beats.

He recognized this place. He'd been here before.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his gaze straightened out, then went up.

Goten was looking right at Mount Paozu.

"Surprise," Trunks said, making Goten turn to him. There was a loving smile on his face, and also a tiny hint of doubt. Perhaps he wasn't completely sure that this was a good place to bring Goten. Trunks had done his research, that much was clear. Chances were high that he knew why this place and day were so strongly related in Goten's mind. Goten could see why he was so doubtful, though. This place, no matter how much he loved it, didn't consist of just happy memories.

"So, what do you think?" Trunks queried, the tension on his face almost palpable.

Goten hated himself for it, but no amount of self loathing could keep his voice from breaking. He just couldn't say anything for now, and judging by Trunks's smile that was very much alright. Goten settled for a hug and a wet kiss.

When he did find his voice, it whispered countless words of gratitude.

Some time was taken for Goten to regain his composure. He cried for a little bit, but Trunks was there to hold him and brush through his hair and say sweet words to him to make him feel better. At one point Trunks actually apologized for making him cry, but Goten wouldn't have it. This was the nicest, most beautiful gift that he had ever gotten.

Once Goten had gotten a hold of himself again. Trunks explained the situation. He sat on a rock by the dirt clearing on which they had landed, patting the spot beside him. Goten took a seat as well and looked out over the valley beneath them. Pierre was one hell of a pilot, because he had dropped them off one-third of the way to the summit.

A forest as green as jade spread out across the horizon, the sun rimming it gold and red. The lake beside the trees caught the light as well, making diamonds dance across their fields of vision. The trail leading down the mountain was as lush with growth as it had ever been. Birds were flying about, making their way back to their nests to get ready for their night's rest.

"Gohan was right, this place really is beautiful," Trunks murmured.

"Ah, so you're in cahoots with my brother," Goten deducted. "Smart."

Trunks smiled. "Yeah... Gohan was more than happy to help me when I told him what I had in mind. I hope I didn't scare you too bad."

"Not at all, you just overwhelmed me."

"Also a satisfying response," Trunks smirked. "Anyway, the whole point of today is for you to get back to your roots, ya know?"

"Not really, but go on."

"Well," Trunks sighed. "Gohan told me a lot about your father. He said how he passed away a day after your birthday, three years ago. Hearing that made me feel horrible. You should be able to have your birthday be about you, no matter the circumstances."

"Trunks, I choose to not celebrate my birthday, you know that." Goten gave him a hardy stare. "I don't want to the day to be about me. And as terrible as it sounds, I kind of don't mind having an excuse at the ready." And that was the truth. It was a mean thing to be happy about, to have your father pass away on a specific date, but at least now Goten had a reason to not spend a whole day patting himself on the shoulder.

"I know that," Trunks said, and he caught Goten off guard by smiling. "But still, you deserve it. And don't even argue with me on that. You do, simple as that. So I've come up with a solution."

"Come again?"

Trunks pointed at the valley below them. "Gohan told me that the house that you lived in before you moved is right behind that line of trees there," he said, pointing them out with pinpoint accuracy. "So what we're gonna do is trek down the mountains and go there, to have a look for old time's' sake. Then, when we are all done there, we'll go about two miles further, to where the houser of your grandfather is."

Goten's mouth fell open for the umpteenth time that day. "You're kidding me."

"Nope." Trunks shook his head in a flurry of lavender. "Not at all. I thought that you'd like to see the place you grew up in first of all, so I can up with the idea of going for a hike around here. Then I talked to Gohan and I learned that your father is buried behind your grandfather's house. So instead of going _up_ the mountain, we're going _down_. Something else Gohan told me is that for the past two years you've used your birthday to clean the shrine you left for your father and light the candles. So I was thinking, maybe we could go there and tidy the place up a bit, you know? Make it look presentable. You can light a few candles, maybe even talk to him a little bit. How's that sound?"

Goten said nothing for a very long time. When he finally found the words that matched his emotions all that came out was "You just love to see me cry, don't you?"

"...I can't deny that."

"Well, you're doing a hell of good job," Goten sniffed. He turned to Trunks and kissed him. "Thank you," he whispered when they released. "You're amazing."

"I know," Trunks laughed. He gestured towards the two backpacks that Pierre had left them with. "So how about we get a move on?"

* * *

The trip down the mountain went fairly smooth, all things considered. One of the biggest obstacles they had to face was Trunks's complete incompetence when it came to being outdoors. They had hardly started down the mountain before he tripped over a set of tree roots and went sprawling. Goten laughed at him the first three times it happened and after that Trunks began to mind his step a lot better. It was the walking definition -no pun intended- of progress.

They reached the edge of the forest with two hours of daylight to spare. Goten told Trunks all about the area as they moved. During summer the forest around them was host to one of the biggest migrations of birds in the world. The lake beside it housed the rare breed of fish called Paozu tuna. The name in itself explained that it was found nowhere else in the world. And so on and so forth.

Making their way through the forest took about an hour and a half. When they finally spotted the final row of trees the daylight was beginning to dwindle and dusk was settling. Suddenly Goten could not keep his enthusiasm contained. He ran out between the trees and reared his head around.

There it was, the house he had grown up in. The place where he had taken his first steps, said his first words, thrown his first temper tantrum. It looked exactly as he remembered it and now that he had spent some time in the city, he had no idea how he had felt that the houses there had looked strange. This one was just as circular, with an orange roof and a chimney on top. Goten ran to it, Trunks hot on his heels.

He couldn't resist a peek inside even though he knew that the place was empty. He almost expected to peer through the grime to see dust rise and fall, the shapes of footprints marking the floor as his memories ran rampant. Of course it didn't, but one could always dream.

"Hmm," he eventually said. "Guess it didn't do too well on the buyer's market."

Trunks laughed at his side. "So, this is where you used to live, huh?"

"Uh-huh," Goten mumbled. "It feels like I haven't been here for six years instead of six months."

A hand fell on his shoulder. "So what do you want to do?" Trunks asked him. "Do you wanna hang out here for a bit? Or do you want to keep going?"

Goten pondered this for a little while. In the end he decided that it would be of no use to stare into an empty house for much longer. He told Trunks this, so after stealing a final melancholic glance over his shoulder they moved on.

The way to his grandfather's house was easy from here on out. Goten's father had travelled the route a countless amount of times and that had left a stomped lane of dirt that cut through the plains. All they had to do was follow said path.

When the final part of their journey came to an end, darkness was stealing over the landscape. Grandpa Gohan's house was lined against the horizon as a dark square, but Goten recognized it without fail. Once again he felt his feet move faster than his mind. He ran and ran and ran until there wasn't a shred of breath left in his body. He could hear Trunks's ragged panting behind him.

When he reached the front of the tiny house something strange happened. It was as if all the strength had been sucked from his body. Suddenly his legs felt much heavier than before and most of the happiness that he had been building up over the day had evaporated. His stomach was no longer swarming with butterflies, instead making room for a block of cement.

But maybe that wasn't all that strange at all. In some weird, fucked up way it had seemed like treachery when he had moved away with his mother. He knew damn well that she wasn't to blame for any of that, yet it had still felt like abandoning his father in a sense. Goku Son had always been there for him, time, money, or people be damned. And now Goten couldn't even be there for his father to wipe the grime away from his photograph after a heavy bout of rain.

And that hurt.

Trunks was by his side to interrupt this glum train of thought and for that Goten was thankful. Trunks kept silent as they stood there, gazing at the arches of the roof and how the moon rose to turn the black to silver. Goten felt around for Trunks's hand and found it. He gave it a squeeze every now and then. He needed it to keep himself grounded.

After some time the courage to actually do this began to pool back into him. He gave a shaky sigh and unfurled his fingers from Trunks's. "I think I'm ready," he said, and gods be damned, he actually began to walk now.

He moved around the house. With every step that he took his feet began to feel heavier, but he persevered. He wanted to do this. No, he needed to. He owed that much to his father. Not to mention how much trouble Trunks had gone through to set this up.

And there it was. Goten now found himself at the back of the house. And just like that his world stopped. In the light of the moon it was as clearly visible as any other day. His father's headstone was greeting him, the mat black catching the reflected rays of sunlight that the moon put out, giving the piece of rock a heavenly sort of gleam. Goten walked closer to it and now he could read what had been written on it:

 _In loving memory of Goku Son. A father first, a man of the world second._

And below that:

 _Don't let the light of others dull yours, for you are the brightest stars in the universe, my sons._

Underneath that line was a photo of the man himself. Goku had a had raised at the camera, the smile that he was known for etched across his face. There were very little photographs of Goku, so finding one to put on the headstone had been a chore. This particular one had been taken during Goten's first birthday party. A copy of it hung in the hallway back home, but seeing it now was as if Goten saw it for the first time in forever.

"So that's your dad, huh," Trunks said softly. "Gohan told me a lot about him, but he didn't show me a photo or anything. He looks just like you."

Goten nodded and smiled. He felt a sad kind of joy trickle into his heart, gut-wrenching yet warm and happy all the same. He turned around and there was the shrine, another photo of Goku perched on top, this one displaying him lounging on the sofa that now stood in South City. Candle stubs surrounded it and a wilted rose had managed to stay on it despite the winter weather that it had to endure. Goten pressed a hand under his nose, feeling the tears coming, but even so his smile could only grow.

Trunks had really thought of everything. He had several cleaning product tucked away into his backpack and he half of them to Goten. Together they cleaned the headstone first, then the marble sheet that indicated Goku's burial plot. Trunks pulled a few pots with dirt from out of nowhere and told Goten that they contained the bulbs of tulips. In two weeks the entire plot would be a sea of colour. The tears threatened again, but they did not spill.

They took their time with cleaning the shrine. Before they did that Goten built a fire to help them see better, lighting the two torches that stood next to the shrine. Goten cleaned the rickety table while Trunks polished Goku's photo to a gleam, doing so with such care that Goten wanted to crush him in a hug. Once all of the aged candle wax had been removed Trunks placed the photograph back on the middle of the table. Yet again he started sifting through his backpack, this time pulling out a big that contained about a hundred candles. He placed them all around the photo, at least twenty of them, lighting them all with a box of matches that he had brought along.

With everything done, Goten took a step back. The torches and candles provided so much light that he could even see the gleam in his father's teeth. His own eyes were burning and he knew them to be red and puffy, but the knot in his throat was swallowed with some effort. He would stay strong, he told himself. If that was possible at all.

When he looked to his side, Trunks was gone. For a moment Goten felt a slight panic grip at him, but when he wheeled around he saw Trunks sitting on his hunches by his father's grave. He was filling the empty spaces of marble with more candles, lighting them all and creating a checkerboard pattern. Goten walked over with a lazy step, smiling at the sight of his boyfriend going to such lengths to make him happy.

When Trunks was done with his chore, he went to stand beside Goten. They shared a quick kiss and Goten rested his head on Trunks's shoulder, glad to have him here in the moment. Trunks surprised him by speaking.

"Maybe you should talk to him," he suggested.

"What do you mean?" Goten asked, his hand curled into the fabric of Trunks's shirt.

"I mean just talking to him. Tell him how your day was, or how your first gig with the Broken Heartstrings went. Just get that load off your chest."

"But I wouldn't even know what to say."

"It'll come to you," Trunks replied, smiling at him. "If it needs to be said, it will be. Now I'll give you some time alone to get your thoughts straight."

Trunks was about to walk off, but Goten grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. "No, please, stay." Upon seeing Trunks's doubtful look he added. "Please, it would mean a lot to introduce my boyfriend to my dad."

Trunks looked at him with startled eyes for a second, then nodded and stepped in close, an arm around Goten's waist. the other boy was quick to shake it off, though, and sat himself down at the foot of the grave. He patted the dirt beside him and Trunks joined him.

Goten mulled the past six months over in his mind, wondering where to begin. Perhaps he shouldn't even start there at all. Dammit, this was hard. For someone who deemed himself an author he was very much out of words to speak.

But Trunks had been right. Eventually the words did come.

"Hey Dad, it's me, Goten," he began, and suddenly the words were flowing out of him like water down a waterfall. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Six months now, I believe. Sorry that I haven't been around to check up on you, or keep your plot clean. I wanted to, but as it turns out, life is not that easy."

He gave a watery chuckle at his own joke.

"So Mom and I moved to South City a few months ago. You should've seen her after you kicked it, Dad, she was so amazing. She hardly cried, even though I believe she should've a bit more. She worked her ass off to make sure that I could eat and sleep with a roof over my head. She never skipped a day and always did her best, but unfortunately that isn't always enough. She was cut on her paycheck and we couldn't afford the house anymore, so we had to move away. I protested for months and I promised her that I would get a job, you know? I wanted to stay here so I could keep looking after you.

"In the end it didn't work, though. Mom said that a child my age should have the chance to live through his youth without worrying about adult situations, if it is at all possible. I guess she was right in that, but I didn't give up without a fight. I can't even count the amount of times I stormed out of the room yelling at her. It's bad, I know. The woman kept me fed and healthy. She's forgiven me, though, thank heaven for small favours. She's got a job in the city now and she's doing the best she can. I couldn't have wished for better parents than you guys.

"Gohan is doing great too. He's still working with Bulma and they're still breaching the limits of science on a daily basis. I guess he's still not tired of being an overachiever. He comes around for dinner a lot. It's really too bad that you never got to know your granddaughter. Pan is amazing, that little monster.

"And me, well..." All of a sudden he wasn't so sure how to continue. He found strength in Trunks when their hands entwined. "I guess that you could say that I'm doing great, Dad. And I really am. I said that to you a lot these past three years, but now I actually mean it. Believe it or not, but I think I'm actually starting to like living in the city. I have friends now, and quite a few of them too. And I..."

A smile split his face in half. "Dad, do you remember that day we went to the beach, just you and me? I was thirteen and still very much a little snot nose. You spent the whole day trying to get me to talk to the girl on the beach towel next to us, but I wouldn't budge. Remember that? And do you still know how you caught me ogling that buff life guard with the chest tattoos? I sure do. I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed. Yet you only smiled at me and told me that it was alright. Thanks to you I never once felt bad about myself when I realized I was gay. You let me be myself, whether it was because of Banshee, or because I liked boys. All you cared about was me being happy."

A feeling of wetness was at the tip of his nose. A tear was dangling and threatening to fall. Goten just let it go. He now felt at peace enough to cry.

"And Dad, you won't believe it, but I actually found someone who makes me happy, just like how it was with you and Mom. HIs name is Trunks and he's sitting right next to me now. He's Bulma's son. It took us a while to get together, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. And I have you to thank for all of that."

More tears came and he let them flow; it was such a liberating feeling that it was almost intoxicating. Trunks's head fell onto his shoulder and he raked a hand through that soft, sweet-smelling hair. The watery _plink_ of his salty tears falling onto the marble was beginning to stir up a rhythm.

"So, I guess what I want to say is... Dad... thank you. Thank you so, so much. I wouldn't have been the person I am today without you, and if I wasn't raised by such loving parents, who knew where I'd have ended up. Hell, I might even have killed myself out of self-pity. I love you, Dad, and... and..."

And that was all that he could say. The seemingly endless flow of words had made way for tears. And that was okay. These emotions were okay. Yes, they hurt him, but they also set him free from bonds that he hadn't even known were there. He cried for what felt like hours, his cheeks stained with salt, his throat dry with the raging sobs. But when the storm had passed, when all of the heartache was seen to, he felt so incredibly relieved. As if an eighteen-wheeler had been lifted from his chest.

Trunks had packed a double sleeping bag for the two of them. Goten fell asleep with Trunks's arms wrapped around him, the mild tickle of the kiss that had removed the final tears still there and ready to follow him into the land of dreams.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think, it would be much appreciated :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey you pretty people, how it goes?**

 **Okay I know it took forever (and I mean FOREVER, and yes it's quite small, but it's sweet and sugary and oh so cute. And it's meant to be an epilogue as it is, and I don't like it when those things are as long as the Oxford Dictionary. So, here you go, the final chapter about our two favourite ducklings.**

 **Thank you for reading and until next time!**

* * *

The illusion of time flying by was broken as Goten Son, eighteen and a half years old, opened his eyes to the world. For a moment all they did was stare at the ceiling, not really seeing but rather coming into focus. During this time his mind was swarming with thoughts. Good ones of course, but there were a few rotten apples among the bunch. Time to break them down, starting with the ones that didn't churn his stomach like he was drunk at sea.

He rolled onto his side and there was the first pleasant thought of the day. Trunks was lying next to him and was still very much asleep. His mouth was open an inch or so and a thin bubble of saliva was expanding and contracting with every breath that he took. Quite the amusing sight, if not a tad disgusting.

What was there to say about Trunks? Well, lots of things, actually. For starters, he had been Goten's best friend and partner in life for the past year and a half. Merely stating this in his mind once again baffled Goten with how fast things could go, how easy it was to let time slip through your fingers when you were making the best of it. Trunks was the reason that Goten had allowed himself to throw the concept out of the window, and for that Goten was grateful.

The past eighteen months had, figuratively of course, gone by without a hitch. Goten had a shelf on his bookcase where he kept his romantic novels. Granted, he didn't have a lot of them, favoring fantasy and horror did that to you, but he was no stranger to the sappy tales of men and women kept apart by time, distance or social class. The premise was always the same too; two star-crossed lovers still find a way to come together, or otherwise spend a night of passion together. All of this happened after they had endured obstacles too diverse to keep track of.

Goten liked drawing this parallel. Not because of the similarities, but because of the differences. It had taken the two of them a little while to get together, yes, but none of that was really due to what one would call obstacles. And once they had made a commitment it was eerie to see how well they worked together. Sure, there was the occasional lover's spat, but it was never over not keeping promises or forgetting things that needed remembering. No, the last time they had had a serious argument was when they couldn't agree on what mode to play on next in BlasterSmash. Goten wanted a plain old Death Match, Trunks wanted to play Seek and Destroy. That was a rough day, but in the end all was settled with tea and cookies, courtesy of Bulla.

Oh, and something that had happened in the privacy of Trunks's bedroom, but that was to be kept separate from family matters.

So, all things considered, there were times where Goten found it hard to believe that they had managed to stay so consistent throughout their relationship. He had considered the question why many times over, but in the end he could draw no conclusion. There were too many factors involved. Though he did know what the main one was; they accepted each other as they were without fail.

Proof of this was hanging mere inches away from his head. Goten could spy it from the corner of his eye. It was a poster for a band named the Broken Heartstrings. It depicted four young men playing in a practice room. It was the poster for their first official tour to promote their debut album. They marketed themselves as a blues band, but Goten being the frontman would call them crossover. Their songwriting process had remained the same since he had joined, but new life experiences had given Banshee a different tune to play. She sounded much more joyful now. At times she did not even want to belt the anthem of the hurt and lonely. Sometimes she just wanted to rock out.

His mother had been telling him for years how his aspirations to be a musician and a writer were nothing but financial insecurities waiting to happen. Last year he had told her off good and she had finally gotten the message. Gohan would occasionally ask how school was going, though Goten never gave him a conclusive answer. But not Trunks. He cared as little for his education as Goten did. Trunks had been his biggest fan throughout his musical career thus far and he always tried to stimulate Goten's creative drive. Not really strange, considering how Trunks had forsaken the family line of work, one that thrived on the intelligence of those involved, to make his money by using his imagination. He was also doing quite well in that.

Goten let out a happy sigh and sat up straight. Most of the sleep was gone from his mind now and he felt ready to take on the day. It was going to be a busy one, for him and for Trunks both. The two of them had managed to make a career out of their talents quite early on. Or they were on the brink of doing so, at least. Goten had managed to sell the first draft of his novel to a publisher located in the city. The second draft was due in two weeks and he still had to tweak it a little bit, but he was sure that it would be received positively. Today though, was a day that he had been looking forward to for a long time.

But first things first. The rumble in his belly told him that it was time for breakfast and by now he was awake enough to hoist himself out from under the covers. Just as he was about to do this, something pulled him back and the waist.

Trunks's arm was snaked around his midriff. Goten made another attempt at escaping, but when he felt Trunks nuzzle into his hair all the muscles in his body appeared to go limp.

"Don't go yet," Trunks muttered behind him.

"I can't. Too awake."

"You excited?"

"Uh-huh." He rolled on his other side and faced his boyfriend. Goten could just spy the gleaming blue behind the curtain of lavender that was trying to conceal it. He reached out and brushed the bangs away, tucking them behind Trunks's ear. He couldn't help a smile.

"Don't worry, it'll be fine," Trunks said. He propped himself up on an elbow. He free hand reached out to Goten's chest, gentle fingers running over the skin that was still sore. Goten grimaced a little; Mizuki had taken her time stabbing him bloody with that machine of hers only a few days ago. It was definitely worth the end result, though. It was an alarm clock with the numbers facing backwards as well as the hands. Because of course he had to get something to commemorate the sale of his first novel.

"I'm not worried," Goten replied. "I'm just happy. Today's gonna be great!"

"That is the truth, my dear sir."

"And now this dear sir of yours is going to fix us some breakfast. You can stay in bed a little while longer if you'd like, but we have to be going in an hour at best."

Trunks's reply was lost as he muffled it into the pillow. Goten got out of bed and started getting dressed. He had to take extra care, because he was not used to wearing anything but casual clothing. Since the first part of the day required him to act as if he were refined and representable, he had to go in suit and tie. He despised suits and ties.

He struggled with the necktie for well over ten minutes before Trunks got up to help him, laughing his ass off. Goten glared at him as Trunks began to dress himself, chuckling all the while.

They met Bulma and Bulla at the breakfast table. Bulla was in her usual good cheer. Goten listened to her as she rambled about what the day had in store for her as Bulma served him a cup of coffee.

Trunks joined them fifteen minutes later and he too looked like he was ready for a red carpet event. As soon as Bulma got him in her sights she began to coo and make other noises one makes when seeing something adorable. Trunks did his best to shrug her off when she went about doing his hair, with some saliva to really give it the proper style. Pleading blue eyes found Goten's, but the other boy just ignored them. Why on earth would he deny himself that kind of amusement?

Breakfast was eaten quickly and after that it was straight into the back of Vegeta's car. The man didn't look happy to be appointed as chauffeur, but Goten knew that he would do it either way. Bulma would twist his balls off if he didn't.

* * *

"So you are saying that you both have little experience when it comes to publishing?"

"Yes sir, that is correct."

"And do you believe that you can understand the mechanics of the trade? I do hope that you realize that signing a paper isn't all there is to it."

"Yes sir, we realize that." Trunks felt Goten squeeze his hand, a little tug at his flesh that told him his boyfriend was beginning to get riled up. Trunks could understand that perfectly well. The guy sitting across from them was underestimating them.

"That's right. We have already looked over the contracts and we are aware of our rights and obligations," Trunks added. "Knowing all of this we do intend to carry on with the path ahead of us."

The CEO of Nimbus Publishing regarded the two of them over the rim of his spectacles. The man had made quite a display of himself, sitting on the edge of his desk and his necktie undone. Perhaps he had hoped to come across aloof or younger than he actually was. Trunks estimated him to be in his fifties, but his demeanor implied that he was a fresh college dropout. In his hand he held the pages to the children's book that Goten and Trunks had written together. Goten had seen to the story and Trunks had brought it to life with his drawings.

"Fine. It seems that you boys are confident enough to go through with this. But I do have to press again that signing a contract is no walk in the park."

"Sir," Goten interjected. "You might not be aware of this, but I signed a deal to have my first novel published. Trunks has stood by me throughout the entire process. We know what we are doing."

"It seems that way," the CEO agreed. "I've read through your work and I have to say that I am impressed. And take it from me that it is not often that the CEO himself handles these kinds of tasks. Admittedly, it was your name that persuaded me to take it up myself, Mr. Briefs."

Trunks nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. That wasn't what he had wanted, coasting on the success of his last name.

"If you two young men agree to the terms stated, I would like to offer you a contract with Nimbus Publishing for three books. The one I am holding right now will be the first of those three. According to the contractual obligations you will have to provide two more books within four years."

"That would be acceptable," Goten answered.

"Well, with that out of the way I would like to welcome you to the Nimbus family," the CEO said, cracking a smile. "I expect you boys to do quite well."

Trunks wanted to address the man on his continuous use of the word 'boys' but decided against it. For now they would keep the man as their friend and once they had seen their contract through to the end they would start publishing for themselves.

And so it was that The Little Duckling was pushed into the publishing trajectory. It was a familiar tale to Trunks and Goten, a story about a white duck who seems weird at first glance, but finds love and acceptance with his peers when they see his isn't all that quirky. Not only familiar, but also relatable.

* * *

Their waiter was a handsome one, a freshly groomed beard framing his face and a twinkle in his eye that promised that he was up to no good. Both Goten and Trunks were staring at him without realising it. As soon as he had brought them their orders they broke into a fit of giggles and whispers.

They were ecstatic and had every right to be. Their book had sold and they were looking at a consistent income of money for the next four years. The one downside that could be found about the ordeal was something that was bothersome mostly to Trunks.

"I just wish that he hadn't been so quick on the uptake just because of my name, though," he said, sipping from his coffee. "I had already assumed something like that would happen, but it still doesn't make me happy."

"I understand," Goten said, smiling. "But hey, at least we have a start now. And we were planning on going into publishing ourselves as it is. You could take up a pen name then."

Trunks considered this and returned his boyfriend's smile. "I suppose you're right. We don't really have anything to complain about." He bit a cookie in two and resumed talking in a spray of crumbs. "So, you ready for the rest of the day? We have to be at the Budokai Theatre in three hours, right?"

Goten nodded and wiped the mess Trunks had made from the table. His knees were suddenly shaking; he had battled the thought of it to the back of his mind to make room for their contract signing. Now it as pooling back into his brain.

"Don't worry, you'll do great and so will the rest of the guys," Trunks said, picking up on his anxiety. "Besides, you have the best opening act you can wish for, so everyone will leave with their faces full of wonder and their heads depressed, because they're sure as hell not gonna see anything that awesome ever again."

Goten kissed him. His lips tasted like coffee. And he still felt like fainting.

* * *

"I knew you guys would kill it!"

Trunks felt the words die on his tongue; Sadie had stolen them right out of his mouth. Goten was as pale as a sheet of paper and he appeared to be wobbling. Trunks moved to intercept him and wrapped his arms around him. He placed a kiss on top of those black locks and sighed.

The Broken Heartstrings had just played their first headlining show ever. They had already booked a small tour across the country to promote their debut album, but tonight push had finally come to shove and the tour had kicked off with grandeur. As a special occasion the Heartstrings were supported by none of than the Gaslight Anthem. When Goten had gotten the phone call to confirm it he had cried until his eyes were red and swollen.

And now all there was left to do was bask in the glow. That and one more thing.

"Sadie, would you mind getting me something to drink? I'm parched," Goten asked, colour seeping back into his cheeks. Sadie nodded, her now green hair flying about her as she dashed across the backstage area. People were walking around and about, most of them familiar.

Once the drinking had been seen to, Goten entwined his hand with Trunks's and squeezed it. Trunks nodded. It was time for the announcements.

"Can we have everybody's attention please?" Goten raised his voice above the murmur of the crowd. Silence fell and the faces of their friends and families turned to them.

Trunks scraped his throat. "As you may all know, Goten and I have been busy writing our own children's book. Well we managed to finish after all, and this morning it was bought by Nimbus Publishing."

They took the mandatory hold for applause and positive cheer. They shook some hands, hugged some people and waited for the storm to die down.

"Yes, thank you, thank you," Goten said. "Also we have something else that we would like to announce. I think it's best to go out and just say it: we're kinda, sorta, somewhat going to.. Oh to hell with it, we're getting married."

The squeals, mutters an outcries of joy were nothing compared to Sadie's response.

"I freakin' fuckin' friggin' knew it! So I'll ask you again, who am I?"

Trunks and Goten laughed and spoke in unison. "Doctor Love. Either that, or the Great Goddess of Matchmaking. Whatever floats your boat."

* * *

Beaker took to their announcement with a loud quack. It was just the response they'd been hoping for.

Goten leaned his head onto Trunks's and tossed some more breadcrumbs into the pond. The ducks swarmed at them and fought over them, but Beaker stood by their side in peace, proudly munching on his full slice.

They stood watching the ducks for a while, not really saying anything, but their silence was broken when Goten spotted something from the corner of his eye.

Beaker wasn't alone anymore. Not alone at all. An army of ducklings stood by his side, all of them pressing close into his white feathers. Although Goten would wager the earnings of his novel that Beaker wasn't a _he_ at all.

He squeaked with uncontained joy and nudged Trunks in the ribs. Dazed, Trunks followed Goten's pointing finger. His response, though heartfelt, was more sober.

"Huh, well you don't see that every day."

"Trunks, look!" Goten said. One duckling in particular was white as snow. It snuggled between its brothers and sisters, content and protected.

Maybe one day it would be big enough for its own full slice.


End file.
